The Emerald Lady
by Crushakitty
Summary: Shosanna Dreyfus decides to use Hans Landa's unwanted attentions to her own advantage, with some unexpected results and revelations. Will reach M rating over time.
1. Chapter 1

_Thankyou for taking the time to read this, my second fanfic. _

_This story has been dear to my heart for a long time but I have been so overwhelmed with thoughts and ideas that trying to finish it seemed like too huge a project to complete. Therefore, I have decided to stop rigidly planning this story and begin publishing whilst my writing and continues and see where my mind takes me. This is therefore a long term project but I sincerely hope some of you will stick with it and see how the story develops._

_Reviews mean a great deal to me so please, please take a moment to leave any thoughts or comments. I sincerely promise to respond to anyone kind enough to review my work._

* * *

Shosanna gasped painfully as she tried to control her sobs. People in the cafe were looking round, staring at the young woman who was sitting alone and crying. Shosanna breathed deeply and tried to calm herself; her cheeks flamed with embarrassment under the inquisitive stares of other diners. It would not be long before a waiter came over to see what was wrong.

She felt her heartbeat fall into a more normal rhythm and her tears subsided as she forced herself to be calm and logical. He had offered her milk but that was surely an unpleasant coincidence; how could he possibly know who she was? They had never even seen each other; they merely knew each other by name. Shosanna felt sick to the stomach as his name throbbed painfully in her head. Colonel Hans Landa, the man who had murdered her family, the man who had ordered their execution and left her alone without anybody. She could still remember the moment, how she and her family had been laying side by side, not daring to breathe as the Jew Hunter's boots clicked ominously above them. Shosanna could still feel how Amos had trembled against her back, still smell the tang of sweat which permeated the stuffy air as their bodies perspired in fear. For a long time she had tried to block out what had happened next, how Amos had choked and spat blood on her face as a bullet entered his chest, how she had made the agonising decision to scramble through the tiny hole in the farmhouse wall and dash to freedom. She had tortured herself every day since, wondering whether she should have wrapped her dead family in her arms and waited for Colonel Landa to prise open the floorboards and finish her off.

Shosanna glanced down at the strudel in front of her, feeling physically sick. How she had managed to force down a mouthful she would never know; it had tasted like cardboard being wrenched down her throat. She glanced at the door, praying that Landa had gone and was not loitering around the entrance enjoying another cigarette. She could not leave the cafe and risk him seeing her upset, his suspicions would be aroused.

She felt suddenly stifled and claustrophobic, anxious to escape from the strudel and Hans Landa's cigarette stub and everything surrounding her, reminiscent of this nightmarish experience. She stood up, her legs wobbling and body shaking, her mind a vague mess of thoughts and emotions. She walked quickly to the door of the cafe and glanced very cautiously outside. She discreetly looked around, focussing particularly on the loiterers who were smoking or chatting in the sunny afternoon. She could not see him anywhere or indeed anyone in military uniform. She decided to take a chance and left the cafe, walking fast with her head bent low, desperately needing to get home and be surrounded by familiarity and comfort.

She wandered the streets primarily in a daze but somehow got home. She found the familiar doors of the cinema and was so hugely relieved that she stumbled inside and collapsed merely footsteps from the entrance as the tears finally overwhelmed her. She sat on the floor and sobbed, gasping hard for breath, her emotional state bordering on hysteria. She heard footsteps and realised Marcel must have heard her and was dashing to help.

"It's ok, it's ok" his deep comforting voice whispered as he wrapped his arms firmly around her "I'm here"

Shosanna clung to him tightly and sobbed until all the tears, tension and fear was finally released from her body. She was completely exhausted and emotionally drained. She smiled gratefully at Marcel, only then noticing the nervous fear on his face. She felt a stab of guilt at her selfishness; poor Marcel had no idea what had happened and was probably thinking the absolute worse at present. She wiped her wet face and attempted a smile.

"I saw him Marcel," she said, her voice hoarse with tears. "I saw him and had to sit there eating fucking cake with him."

The whole story poured out as Marcel sat and listened, stroking her hair comfortingly, his face growing angry as he heard about Shosanna's experience with Hans Landa. The stroking hand trembled with rage when she told him about the Nazi film premier.

Marcel stood up and swore aggressively to himself. He turned and looked lovingly at his beautiful Shosanna; he had spent so long assuring her that Hans Landa would never find her and that she was safe from the Nazi's forever. He felt guilty himself for giving her false hope, allowing her to believe they would never fall into the path of the notorious Jew Hunter.

"Let's not panic, Shosanna," he said reassuringly. "We'll get through this, host the premier they want and then they'll go. I'll handle the screening tonight, you stay upstairs and rest, you don't need to see these bastards again so soon."

Shosanna stood up, her legs still wobbly but her mind calm after the soft reassuring words of Marcel. She shook her head.

"No Marcel, I've got to act as projectionist for any event that these Nazi pigs want."

Marcel looked bewildered. "Why?" he asked.

Shosanna gestured to his face with her hand, raising her eyebrows ironically, hoping Marcel would understand without her having to say the words. He looked puzzled momentarily before realising why his face was an issue. He glowered in rage and muttered furiously under his breath.

Seeing Marcel's hurt feelings strengthened Shosanna, it was her turn to comfort and reassure. She stepped forward and put her hands on his upper arms, stroking him forcefully and reassuringly.

"Don't worry Marcel," she said. "You stay well out of their way and I'll handle this evening. As you say, they want a screening and a premier and that's it. If we can get through this then they'll go and everything will be alright again. Ok?"

Marcel looked insolent and angry but also recognised that this was a time for unity and mutual support, not sulking at injustice. He wrapped his arms tightly around Shosanna and they hugged tightly, not speaking but luxuriating in the warm love and comfort of each other. Whatever the Nazi's did, Shosanna and Marcel loved each other, and nothing would ever tear that apart.

Shosanna bid polite farewells in a deadened state; she had cut herself mentally from the film screening in order to help herself cope. She had forced herself to remain detached from the invasion of Nazi's into her home, made her brain retreat to an imagined fantasy world to escape the reality of screening a film for these animals in the hope that the evening would pass easily. Her plan had worked and she had operated on complete auto pilot, reacting solely to the mechanical functions of the projector, not allowing her mind or heart to be affected in any way by the presence of these people.

When they had finally left, Shosanna wandered slightly dazed into the cinema screen. She sat on a random seat and glanced around the auditorium. After the death of her family, Shosanna had told herself that she should never become attached to people or possessions again. Loving a person or object meant that you forever risked them being taken from you, resulting in the agonising heartbreak which Shosanna could not bear to face again. When she had started working for the Mimieux's she had retained a cold indifference to the beautiful cinema which was now her home and aggressively batted away the affections of Marcel, unwillingly to give her heart to another human being because men like Hans Landa would take them away.

Shosanna knew that as time had passed and Marcel's patient adoration continued, she had slowly waned and grown to love him and her cinema deeply. At first she had admonished herself for such weakness, reminding herself of how painful it had been to lose her family and consequently, how dangerous it was to invest her emotions in another person. But Shosanna was only a normal human being; she craved the love of a man and desired to feel happy and safe in her home. She looked at the cinema seats and resented the fact that they were contaminated with having Nazi's upon them. She sighed and stood up. She left the screen slowly and walked into the lobby; it was dark now and the street outside shone with pale moonlight.

Shosanna's vague mindset was distracted by a sharp tapping on the door. She looked through the glass and almost screamed in fear, her stomach knotting in sick tension. Hans Landa was knocking firmly at the glass, gesturing politely towards the door handle as his way of requesting to enter the building. Shosanna felt an overwhelming sense of panic, wondering how she could avoid letting him in. Her frantic thoughts were interrupted as he knocked again, a pointed grin of amusement on his face as he gestured once more to the door. Shosanna calmed her frantic breathing; she had no choice but to let him in.

With trembling hands she unlocked the door, forcing herself not to look at his face pressed against the other side of the glass. She opened the door and he stepped inside, elegantly attired in his uniform and wearing wild-eyed expression of glee. He swept Shosanna's hand up into his and kissed it lightly, her whole body tensing against the soft warmth of his lips.

"Forgive me Emmanuel for disturbing you at this hour," he said apologetically. "But I wished to see how tonight's screening went?"

Shosanna narrowed her eyes suspiciously; he was up to something, he had surely not come all this way for such a trivial question. He returned her confrontational gaze with one of wide-eyed innocence, although the tiny amused smirk playing around his lips hinted that he was putting on some form of facade. Shosanna was overwhelmed with resentment, she desired nothing more than to strike his nasty smiling face and order him to leave her alone.

"It was fine" she replied shortly, aware that her indifferent tone sounded rude.

Landa smiled and nodded happily.

"That's excellent Emmanuel." he said. "Reichsminister Goebbels will be pleased."

Silence passed between them as they stood looking at each other, both subconsciously aware that Landa had an ulterior motive which he had not revealed. Sensing that this was the time to speak, Landa stepped closer to Shosanna, staring deep into her eyes and making her wince under the glare of his gaze.

"Emmanuel" he said softly, his voice taking on a more seductive tone. "I very much enjoyed being in your company today and would like to know if you would do me the honour of having dinner with me tomorrow evening."

Shosanna's entire body froze in disgust; it took every ounce of her self control to not exclaim in loud and appalled shock. Despite her horror at the idea of having a dinner date with Hans Landa she managed to stay calm, mentally weighing up her options under the pressure of his expectant gaze. Shosanna knew that to refuse his advances was potentially dangerous; she needed to keep him as sweet as possible to avoid his vindictive side flaring up. Landa was a powerful man and could cause her significant harm. Shosanna's heart leapt as she also remembered Marcel and how Landa's offensive attitudes indicated that he would potentially threaten him if they found themselves on his wrong side.

Shosanna could see no way out of this situation, until a new thought occurred to her. Her life would never be entirely happy until she knew Hans Landa could never threaten her again. His sudden interest in her could potentially be beneficial. If she was able to lure him into a sense of security, then maybe she would be in a position to finish him once and for all.

Shosanna's gut instinct told her this was the way to proceed; agree to Landa's dinner date in the hope of gaining his trust in order to punish him for his wrongdoings at a later date.

Shosanna looked at Landa, about to reluctantly accept his invitation when her body involuntarily hesitated. Could she really manage to sit and dine with the man who had ordered the killing of her family? And what about beyond tomorrow night; in order to gain Landa's trust Shosanna had no doubt that a dinner date would have to spiral into a series of dates. Her stomach clenched with sickness as the inevitable thought occurred to her. Could she bring herself to allow this man to make love to her in order to gain his trust? She feverishly imagined the horror of being forced into the bed of Landa and the sensation of his thrusting body driving deep into hers.

Shosanna knew she had no choice in the matter but comforted herself in knowing that she would use Landa's advances to her own advantage. She forced the unpleasant images out of her mind and rationalised instead. Even if the situation came to that, it was only her body; it would be worth allowing Landa to violate her physically if it meant revenge.

She met his face with a forced smile.

"Thank you Colonel," she said, her voice sounding foreign as if it did not belong to her body. "I would be very happy to dine with you."

Landa beamed, although Shosanna shrewdly suspected that he knew this would be the answer he would receive. Few girls were brave enough to turn down an SS officer.

"Would it be acceptable if I arranged for my driver to pick you up at 8pm?" he asked.

"That would be lovely" she replied.

Landa took her hand once more and kissed it, this time retaining eye contact and boring his gaze deep into her. Shosanna's chest tightened, the penetrating power of his eyes proving overwhelming.

Landa broke away from her and bowed slightly.

"Until tomorrow" he said with anticipation.

Shosanna nodded and watched with relief as he exited the building. He began to walk away before turning quickly on his heel and looking back at the young woman standing in the doorway and watching his retreat.

"Au Revoir Emmanuel" he whispered gently.

It took all her strength to stop breaking down in tears.


	2. Chapter 2

_Part 2 of my Landa and Shosanna fiction._

_Many thanks to those of you who have signed up to be alerted regarding updates on this story. My faith in this story ebbed as I began to write but I am much encouraged by kind feedback from my friends._

_This story is entirely fictional and all characters belong to their creator, Quentin Tarantino. _

_Please, please review as it means so much to a budding writer!_

* * *

Shosanna sat in front of her dressing table mirror, applying her makeup. She stared at the reflection of her own face, trying to stay mentally calm and prepare herself for the night ahead. It would be easier if she had Marcel's complete support, but he had been horrified and disgusted when she had told him of her intentions. He had finally understood, after a furious row, the danger that Landa posed if Shosanna did not keep him happy, but it didn't change the fact that he could not bear the idea of her being in his company.

"And what happens if he wants to fuck you?" Marcel had asked, his voice trembling in fear at the potential answer.

Shosanna had sighed heavily. "Then I'll let him fuck me Marcel" she replied wearily.

She stood up from the dressing table and looked at herself in the full length mirror. She had agonised for hours over what to wear, keen not to encourage Landa's amorous eyes but also aware of not offending him with casual dress. The skirt she had chosen was smart and modest whilst the red blouse allowed the slightest glimpse of her cleavage, hopefully sufficient to satisfy the Colonel's lust without forcing her into further indignities. Satisfied that she looked presentable, Shosanna left her room to await Landa's driver in the cinema lobby.

Marcel was waiting for her, his face taut with tension.

"Please Shosanna" he said, gripping her arms with trembling hands, "don't do it, there must be other ways."

Shosanna tenderly stroked his face as she shook her head.

"You know why I'm doing this" she replied softly, "Landa could destroy us both, I've got to make him happy. And if I gain his trust then we'll finish him forever."

"You mean, murder?" Marcel asked in a bewildered tone.

"I don't know" said Shosanna "let's get tonight over with first."

Before Marcel could reply a smart car drew up outside. Shosanna gave Marcel a reassuring smile. She ached to give him a loving kiss but could not risk it with Landa's driver so close. Marcel looked back at her, his eyes pleading silently.

"I'll be fine" Shosanna whispered, sounded calmer than she felt, "it'll all be worthwhile, I promise you. I love you."

She couldn't bear to look at his hurt face any longer and walked hastily out of the front door to the waiting car. A young man in uniform exited the driver's seat; he bowed smartly to Shosanna and held open the passenger door.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle Mimieux" he said, "I have been instructed by Colonel Landa to take you to le Rouge."

"Le Rouge?" Shosanna said in a stunned tone. Le Rouge was a beautiful and very expensive restaurant on the outskirts of the town. Shosanna had never been there in her life. She and Marcel had walked past it once and laughed happily as they talked about their plans to go there one day in the future when they were rich. Landa was clearly a man of expensive tastes although Shosanna also suspected that his lavish dinner invitation would soon transpire to be part of his seduction plan.

Landa's driver ran an eye over Shosanna's outfit and shifted awkwardly on his feet.

"Forgive me for speaking out of place Mademoiselle" he said, clearly embarrassed, "but I believe the dress standards at Le Rouge require evening attire."

Shosanna looked away, equally embarrassed.

"Just a minute" she muttered, hurrying back into the cinema.

She dashed up to her room; Marcel was nowhere to be seen. She felt secretly relieved as she did not want to have to explain her unexpected arrangements. She frantically pulled her skirt and blouse off and grabbed a beautiful emerald green cocktail dress from her wardrobe which she had never yet had the opportunity to wear. She hurriedly fastened a sparkling necklace which Marcel had given to her on her birthday and swopped her modest shoes for higher heels. Slightly breathless, she looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was fitted all the way down to the knee length hem, accentuating her curvy hips and narrow waist.

She left the room and ran hurriedly down the stairs to the waiting car. The driver gave a tiny discreet nod of approval as she entered the back seat.

Shosanna sat quietly, as the car made its way to the restaurant, her mind wracked with a multitude of emotions. How she was going to cope, sitting opposite Landa for the rest of the evening? Sharing a portion of strudel had been difficult enough, how would she keep up the facade for an entire night? She concentrated firmly on the people she was doing this for; Marcel, her parents, Amos. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered the people Landa had taken from her and her desire to avenge them. Having dinner with Landa was a small sacrifice if it meant punishing him for what he had done. She shuddered involuntarily as her brain reminded her of what else she might have to submit to in order to gain his trust. She wiped her eyes angrily and forced her fears out of her mind. If she had to become Landa's whore then so be it; living with her own body after he had defiled it would be worth everything.

The car pulled up outside the restaurant and Shosanna exited and walked to the entrance. She had never felt so tense or apprehensive in her life.

She entered the restaurant and stood rigid, feeling foolish at not knowing what to do. A tall man in a black suit marched smartly up to her. He smirked slightly as he quickly detected her inexperience.

"Mademoiselle..." he began, before a soft voice behind him interrupted.

"Thank you Pierre, I will take Mademoiselle Mimieux from here."

The waiter stood aside and Shosanna found herself once again standing face to face with Hans Landa. As much as he reviled her, Shosanna could not help but acknowledge how strikingly handsome he looked, his uniform pressed to perfection and his face glowing with a strange gleam on enthusiasm. His eyes widened in ill-disguised satisfaction at her choice of outfit. Shosanna's face glowed unpleasantly hot as she watched his eyes skimming over her entire body.

"My emerald lady" Landa murmured quietly, his eyes meeting Shosanna's as he smiled softly at her. Her dark green dress had clearly being met with his approval.

Landa took Shosanna's hand in his and kissed it gently, his eyes never leaving hers.

"May I say Emmanuel that you look exceptionally beautiful tonight?" Landa said.

Shosanna nodded shyly; her throat seemed to have seized up tightly and words would not come out. Looking slightly bemused at his silent companion, Landa led Shosanna to a secluded table, standing until she sat down first. He gave a tiny nod to a nearby waiter who leapt forward instantly, filling both glasses with champagne. Landa took his glass in his hand and raised it.

"Your good health Emmanuel" he said smoothly, "and let's drink to a pleasant evening in good company."

Shosanna smiled politely and drank deeply, wanting very much to drain the glass and send the numbing alcohol straight to ease her throbbing head. Perhaps the waiter had read her mind for as soon as she set her glass back down on the table she found it being promptly refilled. Landa's bemused smile never left his face as he watched her raise her glass and once again gulp deeply.

"Well Emmanuel", he began conversationally, "I must once again thank you for doing me the honour of being my dinner companion."

"The pleasure is mine, Colonel" Shosanna said, her throat finally relaxing although the voice that came out sounded strangled and alien.

"Please Emmanuel", Landa said, "I think it would be much more appropriate if you were to call me Hans."

Shosanna disliked this informality. She gazed at the Colonel's face as he beamed in expectation. Why was she so unnerved by him? Every expression and every gesture he made seemed to have an undercurrent, an underlying meaning which Shosanna could not quite grasp. She gave a slightly shuddering breathe as she tried to calm her nerves and picked up her menu.

"Should we order?" she asked shortly.

* * *

Shosanna felt dizzy as she finished yet another glass of champagne. She was full and her head buzzed lightly with alcohol. As much as she hated to admit it, Hans Landa was a man blessed with natural charm. He had quickly sensed her lack of experience when it came to expensive dining, making tactful suggestions regarding the menu and politely ignoring the mistakes she made using her cutlery. Now the meal was over Shosanna felt oddly relaxed, still wary of Landa and uncomfortable in his presence, but significantly more at ease. To her relief he had not pressed her to make conversation but had chatted away animatedly about himself and anything which he seemed to think would interest her.

Shosanna watched him closely as he inhaled on his cigarette. How could this polite, charming and - although she hated to admit it - handsome man really be the one who had murdered her family? Over the years she had built Landa up into her mind as a monster; a cruel, sadistic and inhuman being who would surely be utterly repellent. But as she sat opposite him, watching those strikingly alert hazel eyes, she could not help but somehow feel strangely at ease in his company.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Landa.

"Well I suspect I have bored you sufficiently Emmanuel about myself," he said with a little laugh, "now perhaps I can learn more about you."

Shosanna stiffened. She knew the smoothness of the evening had to be too good to be true.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, trying to sound casual and disguise the churning turmoil in her stomach.

"Do you enjoy working in a cinema?"

Shosanna paused; this seemed a very odd question to start with. She looked at Landa's enquiring expression, trying to detect what implications were hidden within his words.

"Yes, I do" she answered, aware of her lack of enthusiasm.

Landa smiled. "That's good," he said as he flamboyantly stubbed out his cigarette, "it's important to enjoy your work."

"You enjoy your work then?" she asked suddenly, a strange buzzing seeming to fill her ears. Her fists clenched involuntarily in anger.

Landa stared clearly and directly into her face.

"Of course I do," he replied, "I love my job."

Shosanna's entire body seemed to flare up with burning anger, the flush of emotion in her face feeling almost painful as it burnt her skin. She tried to breathe calmly but found her rigid throat wouldn't allow it.

"So, the rounding up of the Jews is an enjoyable part of your job then?" she asked in an overly casual tone.

Shosanna knew she was now treading on dangerous territory, and the slightly confused and shrewd expression which had darkened Landa's face told her that his senses had also been heightened by her comment.

Agonising minutes of silence followed as Landa merely watched Shosanna, seemingly weighing up mentally in his head how he was going to answer. She took another gulp of champagne to try and calm her shaking body. Upon seeing her glass empty, Landa swiftly took up the bottle and refilled it, the fizzing sound of the bubbles providing the only break in the heavy silence.

When Landa's words came they were spoken quietly and with careful precision.

"You believe that the killing of Jews is an enjoyable aspect of my job?"

Shosanna looked into his eyes, unable to answer. She had pushed him too far, he would surely now turn on her in anger. Her stomach plummeted as Marcel flashed before her eyes.

To her surprise Landa's face broke into a wide grin. He lit another cigarette and sat back in his chair.

"Let me explain something to you, Emmanuel" he said.

He inhaled on his cigarette, sipped his drink and turned to her with a serious expression on his face.

"Do you know what I do?" Landa asked.

Before she could reply he answered the question.

"I am a detective, Emmanuel" he continued, "I am employed to find people, to hunt them down and pass them over to my superiors. Or my employer as you might call them."

Shosanna could not see where this was going but continued to listen carefully.

He inhaled once again on his cigarette.

"My employers at present require me to round up the Jews for them," he said in a calm, nonchalant voice. "So I therefore do as they require. I have no personal vendetta against the people I find. My pleasures stem solely from how well I do my job."

He smiled with satisfaction, clearly indicating that the matter was fully explained. Shosanna felt bewildered.

"But those people, all those people you..." she stopped herself before she said something dangerous.

"Yes?" he pressed her.

"How can you be so calm when you are talking about people's lives?" she asked, still unable to comprehend his cool attitude.

Landa looked at her inquisitively.

"Tell me Emmanuel," he said, "do you stop screening a film at your cinema if you think the picture is a bad one?"

"But that's..."

"Please Mademoiselle, indulge me, and answer my question."

"No I don't" Shosanna said, her anger ebbing away as confusion began to take hold.

"Precisely." Landa said triumphantly.

There was silence once again as he sipped his drink.

"I have no feelings towards the people I am instructed to find," he continued, "my job dictates that I find those who my superiors wish to label as the enemy. Would I hunt down a German, an American, a British man? I would, Emmanuel, as I am a detective."

He smiled softly at her.

"People call me the Jew Hunter," he said, "but to order the death of a Jew is what my job commands me to do. My job, Emmanuel, nothing more."

Shosanna did not reply, she simply gazed at him whilst his words sank into her mind. She had never considered before how Landa could feel about his actions, she had always regarded him as nothing more than a monster. Her aching head was still swimming with thoughts as Landa gently took her elbow and lead her out of the restaurant. For the first time she did not flinch at his touch.

* * *

They didn't speak in the car.

Shosanna felt painfully confused, so many thoughts in her brain that she felt as though her head would crack. He had killed her family, how she possibly feel the tiny stirrings of understanding that she knew were deep inside her mind? He was an evil, malicious bastard! He believed hunting down Jews and tearing their families apart was comparable to the screening of a film!

But still a voice within Shosanna kept reminding her of the facts that her hatred did not want to acknowledge. Landa was a man, ordered like many to do the work of the Nazi regime. Could she possibly accept that this was a reasonable excuse for his behaviour? Shosanna wished that Landa was indeed the monstrous tyrant she had always pictured; trying to hate this charismatic and impeccably mannered man was becoming strangely difficult.

When they arrived at the cinema Landa stepped quickly out of his side, moving around the car to open Shosanna's door. She wondered why the driver had not done this. She glanced quickly through the front window to see the young officer looking purposefully in the opposite direction. Shosanna felt her face flush as she realised he was discreetly trying to give his commanding officer some privacy in order to wish her goodnight.

Landa stood in front on her on the steps of the cinema, his eyes boring into hers. Shosanna felt slightly sick; this was the part of the evening she had been dreading. She forced a picture of Marcel into her mind as she braced herself for the inevitable invasion of Landa's hands. She felt him moving closer. She could feel the heat of his body radiating onto hers and hear his breathing closing in on her face. Her eyes looked through him as she desperately clung to her mental image of Marcel.

Shosanna was abruptly awoken as Landa took her hand in his. With a warm smile and kissed her hand, slightly more tenderly than before.

"Goodnight Emmanuel" he whispered.

Stepping back, Landa tipped his cap politely at her and walked smartly back to his car. With a final dazzling smile he climbed into the back seat and the car started. He was gone.

Shosanna stood watching the car, static in her astonishment. He hadn't even laid a finger on her, and she had been so sure...

Her mind more confused than ever, Shosanna walked slowly to the cinema door. For the first time that night she was no longer thinking of Marcel.


	3. Chapter 3

_So we continue with the saga of Shosanna and Landa, with part 3 of my fanfic. This part came quickly to me as I was left hugely encouraged and enthusiastic by the good response to part 2. I suspect part 4 will be slightly slower in appearing as I have a few different paths I want to take this story down and am not yet sure where my characters want to go._

_I cannot express enough how much reviews and feedback mean to a budding writer, so please, please take a moment to leave a comment or thought. All words are appreciated so much._

_As ever this story is entirely fictional and all characters are the copyright of their creator Quentin Tarantino._

_Please enjoy._

* * *

Landa walked into his bedroom, smiling absentmindedly to himself. How unlike him to come home from dinner with a young lady alone! Landa was not romantic and did not believe in wasting time on courting rituals. If he was attracted to a woman, he saw no reason why their physical relationship could not begin immediately. His smile turned into a grin. He had slept with a good number of women and men in his life and he was most certain that Emmanuel Mimieux would be next.

The reminder of Emmanuel's name started Landa thinking. He sat down on his bed and began to undo his jacket, pondering carefully. There was something about this young woman that he was still unsure about. It unsettled him in many ways; Landa prided himself on being an excellent judge of character who could usually work out everything about a person within minutes. It was this quality that made him such an excellent interrogator, his ability to hone in on his prey and work out quickly what techniques would make them crack under pressure. But Emmanuel was different. Landa knew there was something more to this girl that he was not seeing.

He removed his jacket and took off his tie before setting to work on his shirt buttons. At least he could be certain of one thing – this girl was certainly not the innocent, quiet young thing she made herself out to be.

Landa paused and stood static as he replayed it in his mind, that tiny moment when they had stood opposite each other. He had been sorely tempted to kiss those beautiful lips and had been amused to see the hint of revulsion in her eyes. But then he had spotted it, that shudder of fear turning into one of fire, the tiniest hint of lustful want in those beautiful blue eyes.

Landa laughed out loud. Oh there was definitely some fire in this girl! It made him want her more and aroused him deeply as he wondered what other repressed heat lay within that girlish facade. He quickly removed the rest of his clothing, pausing briefly to gently touch himself as he thought of her once more. He gave a sigh of pleasure but stopped quickly. He must not get too enraptured in this young woman when he knew she was clearly hiding something.

Landa lay down in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, making a plan in his head as to what he would do next. There was certainly no need for him to take any drastic action, he knew there was something more to Emmanuel but it was not necessarily a matter for grave concern. And more than anything he ached to hold her in his arms, to ravish every inch of her beautiful body, to touch her porcelain flesh and claim her as yet another conquest by coming inside her. He gave another deep sigh, the feverish thoughts in his mind giving him an aching erection. Whatever he did next he was not prepared to jeopardise his chances of bringing Emmanuel into his bed.

He would go back tomorrow, he decided. To talk to her and perhaps probe her further. As for her other secrets, well, time would tell. Landa grinned once again in the darkness as his hand slipped idly downwards to relieve the burning pressure at his groin. If he could make the most hardened resistance members spill every secret they possessed, Emmanuel Mimieux should not pose too much of a challenge.

* * *

Shosanna lay on her back on the sofa, her legs elevated to relieve the soreness in her feet. She was not used to wearing heels and the pair she had worn to dinner had been excruciatingly high. Her emerald green dress lay thrown over the back of a chair; it had been fitted at the beginning of the evening but had become uncomfortably tight once she had eaten. She lay only in her underwear, the chilly night air making her shiver slightly. She looked at her dress. She had never worn it before and yet Landa had clearly found it very fetching. Perhaps she should try and wear it more often.

She covered her face with her hands and cursed to herself as she realised what she had been thinking. What on earth was wrong with her? How on earth could she...could she...?

Shosanna couldn't even admit it to herself. She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, trying hard to focus her thoughts. It was no good pretending; she had to acknowledge her feverish imagination. She had found Hans Landa attractive and she had wanted him in those few seconds when she believed he was about to kiss her. Her repulsion at his presence had unexpectedly turned to disappointment at his departure.

Maybe I'm going mad, she thought. How could she physically even stand the sight of the man who had murdered her family?

But he didn't murder them, the voice in her head reminded her. He merely gave the orders, as he job dictated he should. It could have been any other officer giving those orders. What choice would he have had?

Shosanna turned over again, both physically uncomfortable on the small sofa and deeply disturbed by the strange thoughts in her mind. Her comfortable bed upstairs was tempting but Marcel would be asleep in it by now. Shosanna felt guilty but did not want to be with Marcel as this moment. Her confusing evening had left her with thoughts and emotions which she needed time and space to process alone. And he was bound to want to question her on what had happened over dinner; she was simply too tired and wrapped up in thought to discuss things.

She dozed uncomfortably for hours, the pitch black of the night slowly turning into the greyness of early morning. Just as she felt her body finally relaxing, a pair of hands violently shook her awake.

"Shosanna! Shosanna!"

"What is it? What?" she spluttered irritably. She rubbed her desperately sore eyes and opened them to see Marcel leaning over her.

He looked terrible, his face taut with tension and his eyes red. He was searching her face desperately for some form of acknowledgement.

"Why are you down here? How long have you been home? I haven't even been to bed, I've been up all night waiting for you. If that evil bastard has..."

"Marcel will you calm down!" Shosanna snapped, overwhelmed by the frantic presence which had blustered intrusively into her solitude. His hurt expression irritated her further, although the first flushes of guilt were beginning to creep into her face. She rubbed her aching temples and leaned across the sofa to pick up a stray blanket to wrap around herself. She was still clad only in her underwear and was now freezing cold.

"Everything is fine," she said with a tone of precise calm, "Landa took me to dinner, we talked, he brought me home and I went to sleep. There's nothing to get so upset about."

"And when was this?" Marcel demanded, "I've been sitting in our bedroom all night worried to death. Didn't you think to come and tell me you were alright?"

Shosanna didn't answer. After Landa left she had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't even considered Marcel. She glanced at the clock on the nearby shelf; 5.23am. She flushed guiltily; poor Marcel, no wonder he was so panic stricken. She suddenly felt deeply ashamed of her selfishness.

"I haven't been in long, barely an hour, you know how the time just disappears" she said. It was only a small lie, and she was only telling it to avoid an argument.

Marcel did not look entirely convinced.

"Did he..." he began, swallowing hard and unable to finish the question.

"No Marcel," she replied firmly, "we had dinner and talked."

His worried face finally broke into a weak smile.

"My God," he said, moving forward to put his arm around her, "you must have been so relieved."

"Yes, of course."

"But what..."

"Oh Marcel please!" she said, suddenly irritated, pushing his arm away. He looked bewildered.

"What have I done?" he asked, in a voice so full of innocence and worry that Shosanna's eyes filled with tears at her own unpleasant behaviour.

"Nothing," she managed to say, biting back the tears, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm just so tired."

Marcel smiled warmly, his instant forgiveness making her feel even worse.

"You go to bed," he said, "I'll sort everything down here, you come down whenever you feel ready."

Shosanna knew she was being unfair in agreeing to this, Marcel had been up all night and was now going to start a day's work without sleep. But she needed to be alone and to ease her tired mind.

Shosanna climbed the stairs slowly to the bedroom, her whole body wracked with exhaustion. She fell onto the bed and climbed under the covers. She would have fallen asleep instantly if it were not for the dull ache of guilt that pulsed in her stomach. She had been horrible to Marcel; he had been awake all night terrified for her safety and she had returned his love with aggression. She would have to try and make things up to him later on.

I don't deserve Marcel, she thought, her mind slowly relaxing as sleep engulfed her. Marcel is kind, loving, thoughtful and sweet. He's patient and good; he would never hurt anyone or be unkind. He is the perfect partner because he is so ordinary and safe. And Hans Landa is so, so...

Dangerous.

Despite her sleepiness, the throb of lust burned inside her again. Shosanna felt she had finally understood why Landa was so undeniably attractive.

* * *

It was nearly lunchtime when Shosanna got out of bed. She was still tired but the huge cloud of exhaustion which had enveloped her in the early hours had passed, as had her slight hangover. Now she was feeling more balanced she felt deeply ashamed of her treatment of Marcel. She ran downstairs to find him sweeping the kitchen floor, looking completely drained. She went straight to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face into his strong chest.

"I'm so sorry, my darling," she murmured, "please forgive me, you must really hate me."

He gave a slight laugh and hugged her back. "Don't be silly," he said kindly, "How could I ever hate you? I love you."

He caught her chin in his hand and gently kissed her lips. She returned the kiss with equal tenderness, marvelling at how such a strong man could be so incredibly soft. What had she been thinking last night? What woman wouldn't want a man as sweet and kind as this one?

A sharp rap at the door interrupted them. They broke apart with a start, both looking towards the door. Marcel exited the kitchen, crossed the foyer and opened it. Shosanna followed to see who it was.

It was Landa.

Shosanna's stomach dropped deeply and her face began to flush hot red. Landa was looking at Marcel with a condescending smirk, Marcel returning the look with one of shock.

"I am here to see Mademoiselle Mimieux" Landa announced, sweeping past Marcel as if he were part of the door.

Marcel's face contorted into something that expressed both anger and humiliation. Landa ignored him as he caught Shosanna's eye. He beamed widely at her. If it were possible, Shosanna felt her face burn even more.

"Emmanuel," he said dramatically, his voice laced with relish, "how utterly delightful to see you."

He stepped smartly forward and once again took her hand gently to kiss it. A shudder ran through her body as his lips made contact with her skin. He was so gentle, so suave, but that animalistic gleam in his eye still bore deep into Shosanna's soul.

"Might we speak in private?" Landa asked.

"Of course," Shosanna replied, beaconing him into the sitting room. She didn't even glance at Marcel as she closed the door.

There was something about Landa's presence that made Shosanna feel that he was filling the entire room. He looked so oddly out of place, his impeccably smart uniform against her cluttered and disorganised sitting room. Landa sat down on the sofa, a wicked grin breaking out on his face as he spied her abandoned green dress.

"My, my," he said wickedly, "my emerald lady likes to undress quickly when she gets home?"

Shosanna snatched up the dress and threw it behind one of the chairs, burning with embarrassment. Landa laughed.

"Sorry Emmanuel," he said through his chuckles, "I didn't mean to make you blush."

Shosanna sat down awkwardly, clumsily kicking the bookshelf as she did. What on earth was wrong with her? Landa's presence seemed to have made her completely fall to pieces. She sensed from the amused expression on his face that he was drawing the same conclusions.

Breathing slowly to try and calm down, Shosanna attempted to speak.

"It's nice to see you again Colonel."

"Hans," he said softly, "please, you must call me Hans."

"Hans" she echoed obediently, faltering as she looked into his eyes.

All the logic which Shosanna had firmly talked through with herself that morning evaporated. As she stared into those piercing eyes, a painful hunger burned in her chest. It was too illogical to believe, but all she knew was that Landa had awoken something inside her. A dark, needy, hedonistic feeling which she had never even known existed within her. That feeling was by now deeply aroused and indicating one thing very clearly; she needed something from this man.

Landa broke the heavy silence.

"I enjoyed last night very much Emmanuel," he said, "I won't pretend that I haven't come here with an additional motive. I was very much hoping we could spend a little more time together."

Shosanna's chest tightened and her brain rushed with confusion. She knew she wanted to, in many ways she must, but she was also afraid. She was not sure she liked this new side of her that Landa had touched. It felt alien and strangely dirty, like a virus in her body that should be stamped upon quickly. Further encounters with Landa would merely cause it to grow and flourish.

"Well we'll see" she replied in a non-committal voice.

Landa narrowed his eyes shrewdly.

"Did you not enjoy being with me then?" he asked.

"No!" exclaimed Shosanna, a little too quickly, "of course I did!"

Landa smiled gently again.

"Then what is it I know you are not telling me?"

Shosanna looked at the floor, fearful of the answer she wanted to give. His gaze was magnetic and before long she found herself compelled to look at him again. His amused face now looked dark and lustful. It took her breath away; he was achingly handsome.

Without warning Landa rose from the sofa and walked over to her, pulling her up from her chair by the wrist. She gasped as he took her jaw roughly in his hand. He stared at her, his face inches from her own.

"Do I frighten you, Emmanuel?" he asked, his voice now a teasing whisper.

Shosanna trembled under his piercing gaze, her fear slowly becoming mingled with rising lust.

"Yes" she whispered back.

"Ah" he said in a satisfied tone, moving his face even closer. She could feel his warm breath against her own lips.

"And let me guess," he said, his voice even throatier now as his whispering dropped, "you like that don't you?"

Shosanna tried to pull away, alarmed to hear him vocalise those shameful feelings that she had been trying to deny. He gave a menacing laugh as he pulled her back into position with ease.

"So once again I am correct," he teased, his playful voice setting her skin on fire. He gripped her face even tighter, making her wince in pain.

"Let me guess, Emmanuel," he continued, "you fear me and yet you love it so much. It arouses you, it excites you. You pretend to be such a pretty innocent little thing and yet the knowledge that the Jew Hunter could have his way with you any time he wants makes you want it even more. Am I right?"

Shosanna couldn't answer, but the silent acknowledging stare have Landa the answer he wanted.

With a final smile he let her go.

"Well I think in the present circumstances it might be better for me to leave," he said cheerfully, as if the previous moments had no happened, "what's that expression? I will see you around?"

With a devilish grin and tip of his cap, Landa swept out of the room, leaving Shosanna to collapse back into her chair, trembling from head to toe.

A few minutes passed before Marcel entered the room. His face was flushed with anger and when he spoke his voice contorted with rage.

"What the hell did he want?" he shouted, "Is this the way things are going to be now? Him bursting in whenever he wants?"

"Of course not!" Shosanna snapped back, "Hans just wanted to see me."

Marcel's face darkened into one of ugly rage.

"Oh, so we call him Hans now do we?" he yelled, his voice growing louder. "And I hope you noticed the way your Hans treated me. Looked at me like I was a piece of filth, that's what! Not that you cared, I didn't see you jumping to defend me."

Shosanna leapt to her feet, the previous hours of guilt and confusion finally bursting out of her in the form of rage.

"What the hell do you want me to do?" she screamed as loud as she could, "he's a fucking Nazi colonel, Marcel, or are you too stupid to have noticed? You want me to start lecturing him about manners? Either shut up and stop being an idiot or you tell him yourself."

They both breathed deeply, staring at each other in fury. Shosanna could not ever remember arguing with Marcel in this manner. But at this moment he was the only person she wanted to hurl her frustration at.

* * *

On the other side of the wall Landa pressed his ear flat against the stone, desperately trying to hear what words were being said. There were undoubtedly raised voices but he couldn't quite catch what they were saying. He cursed in frustration but quickly reminded himself that at least his early suspicions had been correct. He knew Emmanuel was hiding something, and this furious argument seemed to suggest that he was right. It was with a hugely satisfied glow that Landa returned to his office.

When he arrived at his office Landa sat down at his large immaculately tidy desk to think. His more personal relationship with Emmanuel seemed to be developing well; their most recent encounter had left his almost shaking with pleasure. She was indeed more than the pretty girl whom he had previously taken her for, and the thought of what other dark pleasures she had within her waiting to be discovered excited him hugely. But there was more, this something else which he could not quite put his finger on. It involved the Negro man no doubt, the argument he had heard muffled through the wall indicating clearly that he was implicated in whatever she was hiding.

Landa pondered for a few minutes before reaching the obvious conclusion. The cinema needed watching. He needed someone who could observe Emmanuel and Marcel for him, to spy on whatever they were up to and report back to him. Landa's instinctive hunger for detective work longed to do it himself, but he knew his presence would put them on alert. He needed someone he could trust, someone who was unwaveringly loyal to him but also cunning and clever enough to do the job properly.

Landa grinned as the name of the perfect candidate for the job sprung into his mind.

He picked up his telephone.

"Hermann? Get Sturmbannführer Dieter Hellstrom over here immediately please."


	4. Chapter 4

_Welcome to part 4 of my fanfiction._

_It was my intention at some point in the story to focus upon my 2 main characters and explore their inner thoughts and feelings with regard to this situation. I was reminded of the importance of this exploration by a review from my good friend DeborahKLA. So this chapter focusses slightly more on Landa and what it is about Shosanna that attracts him. _

_I cannot express enough how encouraged and pleased I have been by the kind reviews I have received. I thank you all most sincerely for them. But please, please keep them coming, every word and comment inspires me thoughts furthur._

_All characters are the creation of Quentin Tarantino._

_Warning! This chapter contains some mildly offensive racist attitudes, but anyone who has seen the film will know this is in keeping with the characters._

* * *

Landa hummed happily to himself as he worked. Today was turning into an exceptionally good day. He had successfully confirmed his suspicions about Emmanuelle's feelings for him, and the knowledge that she was so intimidated by him had come as an additionally pleasing discovery. And now he had the prospect of working again with Dieter Hellstrom.

Landa grinned wickedly to himself. He liked Hellstrom. He was young, ruthless and blessed with an arrogantly ambitious streak that made him hugely entertaining to work with. Landa knew that Hellstrom admired him and aspired to one day be as respected and revered a detective as Landa himself. In many ways Landa saw a lot of himself in Dieter, some of his traits and characteristics reminiscent of the young man he had once been.

But the main difference between Landa and Hellstrom was that Dieter wore his hungry desperation for success proudly for all to see and that, in Landa's opinion, was his greatest weakness. Landa had quietly worked his way up the ranks, achieving everything through wit and cunning and never confiding in anyone his burning desire to succeed. Dieter's painfully obvious desperation to claw his way to the top made him vulnerable to those who would exploit his neediness and use it for their own advantage. Landa knew this for a fact as he had done this to Hellstrom himself. He had used the boy on a few occasions for a meaningless fuck, gleefully obtaining pleasure from the way Dieter shamelessly allowed his body to be used in the hope of retaining Landa's favour. He had no idea of Hellstrom's sexual leaning and frankly did not much care. But knowing that he was around to be played with when Landa took the fancy was extremely enjoyable. Landa knew for a fact that he was not the only one who had exploited Dieter in this way, and he amused himself by wondering how many people Hellstrom would have to screw on his way to the top.

A sharp rap on the door interrupted his amused thoughts.

"Come in!" he called out.

The door opened and Dieter Hellstrom marched smartly in. Landa's mind was still firmly entrenched in his previous reminiscences so he was unable to resist the urge to flash Dieter his most lascivious smile. He noticed Dieter's cheeks redden slightly, perhaps remembering his last visit to this office which, if Landa recalled correctly, had been mainly spent on his knees with his face in his superior's lap.

"How nice to see you again," Landa said conversationally, indicating the empty seat opposite him. "Working hard no doubt?"

"Ja, Standartenführer," Hellstrom replied, "the amount of work on at the moment is very heavy. We're all working extremely hard."

On closer inspection, Landa noticed that Dieter's face was indeed slightly weary looking, the face of a man who was working too hard and needed a break.

"Well Dieter," Landa continued, "I have an important and fortunately easy assignment for you. But it must be kept entirely confidential. This assignment comes directly from me, not the SS, do you understand? So you will report directly to me only."

Hellstrom's eyes widened in curiosity and he leant forward in his chair, anxious to hear more.

"You remember Emmanuelle Mimieux?" Landa asked.

Hellstrom thought very briefly before replying, "the cinema owner?"

Landa nodded.

"I want you to watch the cinema," he said, "and in particular the actions of the Mademoiselle and her Negro employee. They're up to something and I need to know what."

"So what exactly am I looking for, Standartenführer?" asked Hellstrom.

Landa carefully shuffled his papers as he considered his answer.

"I think," he said with exacting precision, "I will keep my personal suspicions to myself for the time being. Better not to cloud your excellent judgement, Dieter."

Hellstrom looked slight crestfallen but nodded obediently.

"Do you want me to report back to you, Sir, or should I wait until I have something to tell you?"

Landa looked at the time and made some mental calculations.

"Let's see, they screen a film at 8pm so it's unlikely they'll be doing anything before that. Report back to me here at 7.30pm and I'll issue further orders from there. Possibly I may go down myself whilst the film is on, but I'll see what information you have for me first, Dieter."

Hellstrom nodded smartly, stood up and began to walk to the door. His hand was on the door handle when Landa spoke again.

"Oh, Dieter."

Hellstrom turned and was instantly unnerved by the fiery glow which had entered Landa's eyes. He smiled knowingly.

"I have entrusted this little job to you as I consider you a first rate officer", Landa said softly. "This case has a great personal interest for me, so please do it correctly. If you do, I'm sure I can find a way of rewarding you for your efforts."

His face morphed into his most predator-like smile, his eyes locking with Hellstrom's so directly that Dieter felt weak beneath his gaze. Hellstrom didn't reply but left the office, his mind spinning joyfully as he imagined what rewards Landa might bestow.

* * *

Landa returned to his work although his brief conversation with Hellstrom had distracted him. His pen paused in mid-air as he thought about that silly, arrogant young face, creating the illusion that Dieter Hellstrom was a powerful and supremely confident man who was to be feared. It made Landa laugh to think of the Hellstrom he had seen in private; a mere boy, needy and vulnerable, his entire life structured around the burning desire to succeed.

This was perhaps the characteristic which Landa went for in all his sexual partners. Virtually any person was physical capable of being used for sexual pleasure, but Landa's senses were most acutely aroused when he found a person who was more than they had initially seemed. Hellstrom was the perfect example, the steely Sturmbannführer whose external facade had unravelled under Landa's intense scrutiny.

When Landa thought back over his many sexual conquests there were only a select few who remained memorable. These encounters had nearly always been with women; his encounters with other men had simply been about obtaining sex. He remembered the attractive petite French barmaid, who had been too timid to look him in the eye but had turned into a wild whore-like creature in his bed. Then there was the confident young secretary who had seemed so icy cool and self assured, until a few well chosen caresses had left her clinging tightly to him, begging for such gently intimacy. Landa smiled as his mind ran over selected memories from his past. All of them lovers who he had opened up and explored, discovering a new person within.

He supposed that this was perhaps his natural detective instincts driving his sexual desires. Landa was fascinated by people, not only those who he slept with, but all people. Whenever he met a person he would find himself subconsciously analysing every word, every gesture and every expression that appeared on their face. The subtleties of people were truly more revealing than those without a detective-trained eye realised. Landa loved nothing more than subjecting another human to his scrutiny, meticulously piecing together the little clues they emitted until a full picture of the person emerged. Landa's success rate at questioning suspects was legendary; within minutes he was able to latch onto a lie, toying with the uncovered information like a cat until the suspect gave in and confessed.

And now he had Emmanuelle. Landa had no doubt as to why he found her attractive. Initially she had seemed to be nothing more than another pretty but uninteresting French woman. But over their plates of strudel in the cafe, Landa had spotted a hidden gleam in her eye. There was more to this girl, the slightly brazen glare and fiery glow of a woman with a secret to hide. Most men would have been attracted to her pretty face, blonde hair and slim figure. Landa dismissed such physical trivialities; it was that hidden dark dimension which aroused him, waiting to be unleashed from the confines of her innocent persona.

Landa came to his senses with a start and stopped daydreaming. He was wasting valuable time. At least he was confident that Hellstrom would do a good job. His excellent stalking skills combined with his keenness to impress meant that he was most certainly a good man to have working on the case.

* * *

Shosanna chopped vegetables in the kitchen, her head feeling muffled and her eyes sore from crying. She and Marcel had not spoken since their argument. Marcel thought she was siding with Landa, failing to defend him against his rudeness. She thought Marcel was being unrealistic and childish, expecting her to have any control over what Landa said. They had not spoken since and Shosanna had been sporadically bursting into tears, her frustration with Marcel and anger at her confused feelings making her highly emotional.

She heard his footsteps in the hallway and looked pointedly down at the vegetables, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing she had been crying. He entered the room. Shosanna completely ignored him, chopping with unnecessary concentration.

"I'm going out," he said shortly.

"Fine."

Marcel hesitated.

"You don't mind?"

"No."

"Or you don't care?"

"Whatever you think."

"Well I might stay out a while in that case."

"You do that."

Shosanna continued to chop as she listened to him stamp angrily away, slamming the front door with shuddering force. She forced herself to stay composed for a further few minutes in case he suddenly returned. When she felt sure there was no possibility that Marcel was returning, Shosanna threw the knife down and sank into a kitchen chair, her whole body quivering with racking sobs. She cried bitterly for a long time until her breathing began to ease and her body slowly calmed. She wiped her damp, blotchy face with her hands.

A few days ago everything had been perfect. She had a lovely home, moderately successful business and the kindest man any woman could hope for. In such a short space of time her world had fallen apart. Nazi's were invading her home, Marcel was not speaking to her and Hans Landa had tipped her normally stable mind into a shower of disarray.

Her eyes were so sore from a combination of crying and lack of sleep. Her head had not stopped aching and her stomach was churning constantly with sickness. She was a physical and emotional wreck.

A sudden strange, cold anger took hold of her. She hated Landa. She really did hate him. Not content with destroying her past he was now destroying her present life, cruelly appearing just as she had finally become convinced of Marcel's reassuring words that their life could be happy.

She stood up, suddenly invigorated with a new sense of determination. She would never see Landa again; his next request for a date would be turned down. He would be offended but what could he honestly do? Arrest her on a charge of refusing a dinner invitation? The risk was worth it, she feared her sanity would not hold out against the flurry of extreme thoughts which had troubled her over the past few days. She would get rid of Landa, make things up with Marcel and everything would be normal again.

She was barely out of the kitchen before the first shred of doubt entered her mind. Never see Landa again? Could she really convince herself that the overwhelming burn of lust that had swept through her when he was roughly holding her face had not excited her? Could she pretend that his predatory nature and total danger did not make him irresistibly exciting?

Her eyes filled with tears again. Angry at herself she grabbed a cloth and bucket and stormed furiously to the front door in order to clean the windows.

Hellstrom rested his head lazily against the car seat, trying to fight off the lethargy that was setting in. He really needed another cigarette but he had smoke far too much today already. It was so easy to light cigarette after cigarette when bored.

Hellstrom was parked across the square from the cinema, sitting alone in the driver's seat and watching the door. He had driven himself rather than use his driver as he was unsure whether Landa's instructions for secrecy applied to all Gestapo staff. As much as Hellstrom enjoyed detective work, there was no denying that the early stages on an investigation were painfully boring. He was prepared to wait, spending many hours putting his victim under surveillance, but it was only when the time came for action that Hellstrom truly enjoyed himself. He wished in many respects that he was more like Landa who seemed to glean immense pleasure from every aspect of an investigation, from the first inklings of suspicion to the moment that he was able to throw yet another traitor or Jewish sympathiser into prison. The thought of Landa made his whole body suddenly flush with hot pleasure. Any amount of boredom was worth it if it meant time spent in Landa's company.

He was on the verge of giving in to temptation and lighting another cigarette when the cinema door opened. He sat up straight, suddenly alert. He had seen the Negro leave some time earlier, so this was presumably Emmanuelle Mimieux.

He recognised the figure that came out of the door as Emmanuelle, her blonde hair and slight frame visible, despite the considerable distance. She had something in her hands that Hellstrom could not quite see. He picked up the binoculars that he had left lying on the passenger seat in order to take a closer look. A cloth and bucket; logically she was about to do some cleaning. Hellstrom was about to throw the binoculars back down in irritation at this highly uninteresting development, when his eye suddenly caught Emmanuelle's face. He moved forward in his seat and stared even harder to see if he was correct in what he suspected. Yes, he was correct, she was crying. He continued to watch as Emmanuelle wiped the window with her soapy cloth, one hand constantly brushing away the tears falling down her cheeks.

Hellstrom sat back and thought. An interesting observation indeed. Of course it could be entirely innocent, most women were so ridiculously emotional and highly strung that it could be nothing of importance. But Hellstrom believed strongly in gut instinct, and the detective within told him that this little display of emotion was of interest.

He suddenly remembered the question that had bothered him from the moment Landa had explained the case to him. Why was Landa so interested in this cinema and the owners? What exactly did he think was happening? And why was Landa being so secretive about it? Hellstrom knew that despite Landa's flattering comments about his skills, there was only one reason why he had asked him to undertake this case. Hellstrom would have obeyed Landa under any circumstances, and it was only with this unwavering loyalty that Landa could have been assured that his private investigation remained secret. Hellstrom continued to ponder; he had a strong feeling that Landa was keeping something very significant back from him.

* * *

Landa looked at his office clock. Nearly 6pm. He fiddled with his pen restlessly before putting it down and closing the folder he was working on. He couldn't concentrate on writing anymore.

It always puzzled Landa how he possessed endless patience when undertaking his own work but became desperately impatient when someone else was doing the job for him. Now that he had put Hellstrom on the case he wanted results instantly. He knew Hellstrom was perfect for the job, but his personal interest in Emmanuelle made him hunger for quick answers.

Landa considered the time again. Hellstrom was due to report back at 7.30pm. Landa thought for a minute before deciding what to do. He would walk down to the cinema and meet Hellstrom to save him the journey. It would give him something to do and he would find out more quickly what Hellstrom had found out. Plus, it might give him the opportunity to see Emmanuelle again that evening.

As Landa put on his gloves and coat, he wondered to himself which of those reasons was motivating him the most.

* * *

It was dark by the time Landa had reached the cinema. He spotted Hellstrom's car across the square and walked towards it, careful to stay out of view of the cinema windows in case Emmanuelle or Marcel happened to glance out.

When he reached the car Landa opened the front passenger seat and climbed in. Inside, Hellstrom gave a sudden start and sat up, looking in bewilderment to see who had entered his vehicle. Landa gave him a cold smile.

"Sorry to disturb your nap, Dieter," Landa said sarcastically.

"I wasn't asleep!" Hellstrom protested, before adding "Sir" as a quick afterthought.

Landa narrowed his eyes suspiciously before deciding that he couldn't be bothered to pursue the point.

"Anything to report?" he asked.

"Not really, Standartenführer," replied Hellstrom, stifling a yawn.

"Nothing?" Landa asked incredulously. He had been entirely convinced that Hellstrom would have news for him.

"Well the Negro left earlier this afternoon," Hellstrom said, "hasn't been back since."

Landa sank back into his seat in disappointment.

"Oh I forgot!" exclaimed Hellstrom, "the girl, Emmanuelle, she was outside earlier and was upset."

"Upset?" Landa asked sharply, "what do you mean?"

Hellstrom turned slightly so he could look Landa in the eye as they spoke.

"She was outside cleaning windows and I could see her crying. Cried the whole time. Seemed very upset."

Landa's mind shrewdly considered this information. He had overheard an argument that morning and now Hellstrom has seen Emmanuelle in tears. Something was definitely going on.

"I think Dieter I will go in and see the young lady myself," Landa said.

Hellstrom looked puzzled. "You're going to go into the cinema to talk to her?" he asked.

"Yes," Landa said, with such a glare of cold disdain that Hellstrom did not dare ask any more questions.

Landa took the door handle and climbed out of the car, his mind made up on what he was going to do. He leaned his head through the window to address the sulky face of Hellstrom.

"Good work, Dieter," Landa said, "be back here tomorrow at 8am unless you hear otherwise."

"Ja, Standartenführer," Hellstrom replied, not disguising the insolence in his voice.

Landa was too focussed on Emmanuelle to waste time on Hellstrom's childishness. He strode away from the car with purpose and headed for the cinema doors.

Hellstrom watched him go, still stinging with resentment at being snapped at like a naughty schoolboy. His curiosity about Landa's interest in Emmanuelle Mimieux was by now burning.

Landa entered the cinema lobby. There was nobody around. He could hear the low rumble of the film screening nearby. He frowned to himself; seemed very lax security not to have anyone watching the doors? The he remembered what Hellstrom had said. Marcel had left the building and not yet returned. Logically, one of them would usually be manning the lobby whilst the other was controlling the projectors. So that was obviously where Emmanuelle must be.

Landa looked up the stairs and an exciting thought occurred to him. Emmanuelle was upstairs, alone, in the projector room. The audience was watching the film, Hellstrom was driving back to his lodgings in a temper and Marcel had disappeared. A wicked grin spread across his face and he began to stride up the stairs.

Shosanna was barely concentrating tonight. It was horribly humid and she was uncomfortably hot in the tiny projection room. She was also worried about Marcel who had been gone for hours. She knew he was angry but it was very unlike him to prolong his mood for this long. If he wasn't back by the time the film ended she would wander around the square to see if he was hiding in any of the taverns.

The door behind her opened.

"Thank God!" Shosanna exclaimed, "I was just..."

She turned around and her breathe caught in her throat at the sight of Landa standing in the doorway. He smiled with mock innocence.

"Expecting someone else?" he enquired.

Shosanna didn't answer but stared coldly at him, her chest burning with sickening dread. He still had that infuriating grin on his face.

"I thought I might stop by on my way home to see how you were," he said pleasantly.

"Fine," Shosanna replied, her gaze not softening.

"I thought you might like to see me again, after our conversation this morning," Landa continued.

Shosanna took a deep breath. Now was the time to do it.

"Colonel" she began, before being interrupted.

"Please, Emmanuelle. It's Hans," he said.

Shosanna bored her eyes into him with even more determination.

"Colonel Landa," she said firmly. She was encouraged to see his grin falter slightly.

"Having dinner with you the other night was lovely," she continued, "but I'd rather not do it again if you don't mind. So I think it would be better if you didn't come back here again."

She braced herself for his reaction. His smile had faded and had been replaced with a narrow eyed look of contemplation. Shosanna could almost visualise his brain ticking, deciding which approach would be best to handle this unexpected situation.

"Why not?" he asked calmly.

"Because I don't want to," Shosanna replied, her voice firmer than the nervousness she felt inside.

Landa gave her a thoughtful smile and then began to remove his gloves. He tossed them casually onto a nearby chair before removing his cap and taking off his coat. Shosanna frowned.

"You can't stay here, Colonel," she said.

"Well, you know, Emmanuelle, I think actually I will," Landa replied in a tone of sickening politeness, his smile never wavering.

Shosanna's face flushed in anger.

"I'd like you to leave please, Colonel!" she said aggressively, his grinning face beginning to agitate her.

"No, no, Emmanuelle, I really think I'd prefer to stay," Landa replied happily. His eyes gleamed with malice. "And I don't really see how you can stop me. Or maybe you could get your Negro to throw me out. Oh of course, I forgot! He left a few hours ago and hasn't come back. Gone to find people of his own type to be with?"

The white hot fury in Shosanna's body bubbled out of control.

"You nasty little bastard!" she snarled before lunging at him, hand raised in order to slap his gloating face.

Landa caught her wrist in the air with ease, laughing as she struggled to pull away from his grip. His other hand took her free wrist and he held both her arms firmly, watching with amusement as she twisted and bucked her body away from him. Shosanna was surprised by his strength; he gripped onto her small wrists effortlessly, welding to them with an iron grasp. There was no use fighting him. Shosanna stopped struggling and looked up at his face, panting slightly from the effort. Landa's smile was by now soft and barely hovering on his lips.

"You really are too easy to read, Emmanuelle," he said softly, "you made a very good attempt at pretending you wanted me to go, bravo for your efforts. But I've interviewed enough liars in my life to know when one is standing in front of me."

"I wasn't lying!" Shosanna said through gritted teeth, now avoiding his eye for fear that he could literally see through them into her mind. "I want you to leave."

"Silly, silly girl," Landa said with mock sympathy, "when a person protests this much, it quite simply means that they want nothing more than the opposite of their demands. That's the benefit of being a detective, Emmanuelle. Not only do I know when a person is lying, I know what truth lies beneath it."

Shosanna looked up fearfully. Landa's eyes were now full of that burning lust which had enticed her so much after their dinner. If she could only deny the equally feverish feelings which were building deep in her stomach.

"We both know what you really want," Landa said, his voice now barely a whisper, his gaze piercing.

In one swift movement, Landa jerked Shosanna's wrists and sent her body slamming into his own. His lips caught hers and he kissed her deeply, his mouth engulfing hers and stifling the tiny cry that escaped it. He pulled away almost instantly, studying her face for a reaction. Shosanna was shaking with shock, the wetness of his mouth still fresh on her lips.

Their eyes met. The mutual understanding was instantaneous.

This time is was Shosanna who thrust her face forward and caught Landa's mouth in a second, passionate kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

_Welcome to part 5 of my fiction._

_Firstly I would like to say a warm thankyou to all that have read and reviewed this story. As some of you know from my replies, I considered giving this story up and would never have continued without your kind words and encouragement. It means more than I can say. Please, please keep the comments coming._

_In many ways this chapter wrote itself and this makes me completely unaware of how it will be received. Normally I have quite a good idea of whether my work is good or bad, but this chapter sprang out of nowhere. I had the first half planned in my head for some weeks but wasn't sure what the second half of the chapter would contain. As I wrote a strong idea took hold of me and I kept writing until it was all down. Its an interesting idea to play with and I hope it works._

_As always, all characters are copyright of their creator, Quentin Tarantino._

_WARNING! The MA rating kicks in, this chapter contains strong sexual content._

_Enjoy._

* * *

Shosanna had never been kissed liked this before and she found herself sinking into it willingly. Landa's lips worked hungrily against hers, his mouth pressing hard and his burning lust pounding in every movement. His tongue slowly slid into her mouth and met hers and she returned the gesture eagerly. She felt a vibration against her face as he gave a little chuckle, clearly amused by the enthusiastic little tongue that had now entered his own mouth. He finally let go of her wrists, his hands hovering close by in case she attempted to slap him again. Instead, Shosanna's hands went straight to the back of Landa's head, her fingers burying into his thick hair as she pulled him closer. Landa tipped her chin upwards slightly to get a better angle before allowing his hands to rest gently on the back of her neck.

This is wrong, this is wrong, Shosanna repeatedly to herself mechanically, and yet she could not resist that powerful, forceful mouth. Somewhere amongst the arousal in her stomach a tiny pang of guilt pounded as Marcel's face swam in front of her eyes. She remembered their first kiss, a gentle little peck on the lips in the garden after celebrating Ada's birthday. Marcel was always so gentle and sweet, kissing her as softly as a mother would kiss a baby. He had never, ever kissed her like this.

Landa's hands slid down Shosanna's back firmly before resting on her hips. She forgot Marcel in an instant when she felt the very tips of his fingers pressing into the first curves of her buttocks. They finally broke apart their kiss, both panting slightly and out of breathe. Shosanna's eyes met Landa's and she gave an involuntary shiver. She had never seen anything so terrifying and yet so feverishly arousing in her whole life. He looked like an animal that had just spotted its prey; hungry and wanton, every inch of his face glowing with an almost dangerous level of desire.

Landa's face broke into a sly grin as he moved one of his hands. Shosanna watched as lay one finger at the base of her neck and ran it slowly down her hot skin, bringing it to rest at the neckline of her blouse. He playfully fiddled with the first button, looking at Shosanna with obvious intent. She broke his eye contact and looked down, suddenly flushing with embarrassment at what Landa clearly wanted. The little sadistic laughter rang out again.

"Feeling shy?" he asked, his fingertips dancing around her neckline with such feathery lightness that it made her shiver.

Shosanna couldn't answer, but closed her eyes to focus all her senses on those wonderful hands and the way they were making her skin tingle. Landa gave a satisfied sigh, clearly pleased with her reaction.

"You want this, don't you?" Landa said, his voice becoming throatier with lust.

Shosanna didn't hesitate. "Yes," she replied, aware of the desperate need in her voice.

"Turn around," Landa ordered quietly.

Shosanna obeyed him instantly. She gasped as his hands instantly grabbed at her body, touching her all over and squeezing her flesh roughly. Shosanna felt and heard his breathing become more laboured as he grabbed her thighs, gathering as much flesh into his hands as possible before squeezing hard. Landa was so aggressive, so rough, and yet Shosanna knew that she wanted nothing more than for him to continue.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Landa said, his voice gleeful and ringing with excitement.

Shosanna was struck by how perceptive he was, able to read her mind exactly and know what the reaction of her body meant.

"Yes," she replied, her voice now coming out as a gasp. Her excitement seemed to entice Landa even more.

"More? You want more?" he asked aggressively, digging his fingers so hard into her hips that Shosanna winced.

"Yes," she replied once again, begging him silently not to stop.

Still standing behind her, Landa's hands dived straight for her blouse, undoing the buttons with swift ease. Shosanna watched the white material fall to the floor and tensed slightly as she felt Landa's fingers playing with her underwear. With no hesitation he unclipped her bra, pulling the straps down her arms so that the garment also fell to the floor. Shosanna instinctively moved her hands to cover herself, but Landa quickly batted them away.

"Oh nein, nein, Emmanuelle," he chuckled as he guided her hands firmly back to her sides.

Shosanna's self consciousness lasted barely a moment before she gave way to a wave of pleasure as Landa's strong hands engulfed her breasts. She moaned and let her head fall back as he stroked and pressed them, using his fingertips to play with her nipples until both stood hard and erect. Landa gave an equally enthusiastic groan as he pressed his whole body against her back whilst he continued to touch her. Shosanna's stomach tensed yet again with arousal as she felt his groin against her buttocks and the extremely hard erection that lay within his trousers. She moved her hips very slightly, enjoying the feeling of that hard lump of flesh rubbing against her. An overwhelming urge was pounding in her head, an urge so irresistible that she could not stop herself.

Shosanna stretched one hand behind her and gripped Landa firmly between the legs, squeezing his bulge of excitement, her face glowing with satisfaction as he gasped loudly and jolted slightly at the unexpected touch.

Shosanna's sudden assertiveness seemed to empower Landa's lust even further. With a little growl he pushed Shosanna forward, against a desk, firmly pressing her down and making her bend over it. Shosanna did not fight the aggressive hands that pinned her down, even though he was hurting her. Landa grabbed her hair and pushed down onto Shosanna's head to hold her still. She squirmed slightly with a mixture of fear and excitement, her bare breasts rubbing uncomfortably against the cold table.

Shosanna cried out with joyous relief when she felt Landa's other hand run up her skirt, along her thigh and to her underwear. He pulled roughly at the underwear until it came away, sliding down Shosanna's legs. Landa gathered up the material of her skirt with one hand and stuffed it around her waist. Shosanna moaned and writhed with pleasure, biting her lip to stop herself begging him to touch her. Landa laughed derisively at her; she couldn't see his face but she could tell from the tone of his voice that he was deeply amused by the spectacle in front of him.

"I would never have guessed you were such a little slut, Emmanuelle," he said harshly.

His words didn't upset Shosanna, they seemed to set her mind on fire even more. She gasped as finally, she felt his fingers stroking the flesh between her legs. She heard him groan deeply.

"Look at you," he whispered breathlessly, "so wet and ready for me. Lying there, wanting nothing more than a good, hard fuck."

Shosanna didn't bother to say anything. She parted her legs slightly more to indicate to him that everything he was saying was true. He laughed gleefully, clearly delighted by her actions.

"Don't worry," he said, "you're certainly going to get the fucking that you've been asking for."

His hands moved away and Shosanna could hear the sound of him unbuttoning his own clothing. She was so far gone, so completely overwhelmed by the lusty needs of her body, but somehow a tiny voice of logic rang in her brain.

This is your last chance, she thought, your last chance to stop what's about to happen.

Despite everything going on around her, Shosanna hesitated for a second, knowing what she was supposed to do. She heard the metallic sound of Landa unzipping and one of his hands returned to her hip. This was so wrong, but she couldn't stop herself.

The opportunity to turn back was gone in a flash. Without warning Landa thrust hard into Shosanna, making her gasp at the sudden forceful entry. He paused once he was all the way in, seeming to savour the moment. Shosanna lay completely still, every one of her sense attuned to the feeling of Landa deep inside her. For a few strange moments they remained, both silent and still, both breathing deeply and absorbing the wondrous feeling of experiencing new flesh in the most intimate way possible.

The tension broke as Landa took hold of Shosanna's hips and began to move, slowly but steadily, thrusting himself firmly in and out. She closed her eyes and moaned gently with each penetration, his utter dominance and complete control overwhelming her in a cloud of dazed pleasure. He leant forward, lying across her back and bit down on her shoulder. Shosanna flinched at the pain but still moved her face in order to nuzzle her hair against his head, rubbing against him gently, begging to feel those lips again. Landa gave a little sigh of pleasure as he tipped her hips slightly upwards and began to move faster but firmer. This time Shosanna cried out loud as she felt the very tip of him hitting a point of deepest pleasure inside her, a sensation she had never experienced before. It fluttered through her mind vaguely that Landa must surely have slept with a great many women; he was undoubtedly a skilled lover and knew exactly how to make love in the most enjoyable way.

"Please, don't stop," she managed to gasp, her sentence broken by the very physical movements behind her.

With a malicious little laugh Landa promptly withdrew himself. Shosanna opened her mouth to protest; was he doing this simply to spite her? She thought men liked nothing more than being told how good their love making was?

Before she could utter a word, a new sensation hit her, one which promised so much enjoyment that she could barely contain herself. Landa's hot breath could now be felt between her legs, his mouth unbearably close to her most sensitive flesh.

"I don't know if you know this, Emmanuelle," Landa said, his voice muffled now that he was surrounded by her thighs, "but the best time to taste a woman is when she is as aroused as you are. There is nothing quite like it."

With that she clenched her fists and stifled a loud cry as she felt his hot, wet tongue slide along her opening. She heard him moan appreciatively, his fingers sliding underneath her in order to gently massage her tender clitoris. Shosanna buried her face into the coldness of the desk, the firm but gently playful tongue making her writhe with excitement. Landa grew bolder, the little tongue sliding inside her as his fingers rubbed her with more determination. Shosanna could feel a strong pounding in her pelvis and knew she was very close. Landa seemed to sense it as well, his tongue moving more rapidly as it lapped against her flesh. Her whole body went rigid as Shosanna climaxed, gasping as wave upon wave of orgasm threatened to overpower her, Landa's face still pressed between her legs as he seemed to absorb himself in every shudder of her body.

Shosanna felt herself begin to calm, the pounding in her chest subsiding and the throbbing in her stomach beginning to weaken. Before she had time to fully compose herself she was made to gasp yet again as Landa roughly pulled her thighs apart, penetrating her once more. Shosanna couldn't quite explain why but more than anything she wanted now to show Landa that she could be just as enthusiastic as him, that she was more than a passive body thrown unceremoniously over a desk.

She raised herself slightly on her elbows and began to move back to meet his thrusting hips, determined to play her part in helping him reach a climax. Landa gave a gentle cry at her actions and began to move even harder and faster, spurred on by the rhythm of the body lying in front of him. Shosanna tipped herself up to take him in even deeper, her face screwed up in concentration as she focussed all her efforts on the hard flesh sliding in and out of her. Landa's movements were becoming jerkier, the hands on her hips beginning to shake very slightly. Shosanna could feel he was not far off and began to pump her own hips even harder, clenching her muscles so that they tightened around him.

With a final loud groan Landa let go of Shosanna and fell forwards against her, his hips slamming hard as he came inside her. She clutched him tightly inside as she felt him throbbing, his climax vibrating powerfully against her own flesh.

Neither of them spoke as they both lay still, recovering, Landa still in the final throws of orgasm and Shosanna slightly dazed at the strangeness of what had just happened. She could not quite believe what she had just done; surely this was some sort of insane dream?

Shosanna was jolted back to reality as she felt Landa gently withdrawing. She didn't move but continued to lie still as she listened to the sound of him doing up his trousers, his breathing becoming more controlled once again. Landa gave her a slight tap on the buttock.

"Time to get dressed," he said in a casual tone. He might have been asking what the weather was like.

Gently, Shosanna stood up, her legs wobbling slightly. Her crumpled skirt fell back down from her waist to cover her legs. She was grateful; she suddenly wanted nothing more than to cover up her exposed body. Without turning round she grabbed her blouse from the floor and put it on as quickly as possible. She didn't even bother with her underwear; all she wanted to do was hide her naked flesh before Landa could lay eyes on her.

Shosanna turned round, not looking at Landa, her face flushing as she felt a wet stickiness against her inner thighs, a reminder of what she had just allowed him to do. Landa stepped forward to move closer to her. Shosanna's gaze remained firmly on the floor, her eyes watching his feet rather than his face. Despite the unpleasant knot of guilt that was now beginning to twist in her stomach, she couldn't help but gasp gratefully when Landa leant forward and kissed her very gently on the cheek.

"I better be off," Landa said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Shosanna said suddenly as he neared the door.

Landa stopped. Shosanna looked up and finally met his eye. He gave a playful smile and raised and expectant eyebrow. Shosanna rushed forward suddenly and kissed him full on the lips, needing the evening to end with a glow of affection. Landa returned her kiss before pulling away and smiling. He stroked her hair and looked down at her pretty face. Despite everything he couldn't help but feel a warm glow of affection for her.

"I'll see you soon," he said warmly, before kissing her once more on the forehead and turning around towards the door. He was gone. Shosanna stood motionless in the middle of the room, listening to his booted feet descending the stairs.

* * *

It was dark and cold by the time Landa reached his townhouse. He walked through the house putting on the lamps, ignoring the meal that had been left out for him by Hermann. Landa often worked late into the evening and Hermann always assured there was food waiting for him when he arrived home.

Landa went straight to his drinks cabinet, poured an excessively large whiskey and took it upstairs. He removed his coat, hat and gloves but did not go over to his bed. Instead he sat at his desk, sipping whiskey as he contemplated the evening.

He felt faintly disturbed by the sudden rush of feeling that had engulfed him as he has said goodbye to Emmanuelle. Why had that happened? He'd gone to see the girl with the intention of having sex, why had he suddenly felt such a warm tenderness towards her?

Landa shifted uncomfortably. He hated considering and contemplating feelings. Feelings were abstract and confused and could be interpreted in multiple ways. Landa liked to deal with cold, hard facts, information that he could process and analyse until an answer became apparent. He assumed this was why he had always favoured sex over love and romance. Two people knew exactly where they were when it came to sex, the physical process of it and the sensations it provoked. Landa loved the sense of control, knowing that through sex he was entirely in posession of his own mind and body, able to understand what gave him pleasure and use that to work towards a blissful climax. Romance was tiresome and frustrating, leaving him guessing as to what he was supposed to do and what actions were expected from him. Landa had no time for playing romantic games; sex was infinitely more satisfying and able to provide the most exquisite pleasure without the hassle of trying to understand feelings.

But Landa also knew that he had felt something when looking into Emmanuelle's pretty blue eyes. Was it love? Landa dismissed this as quickly as it had occurred to him. He had never been in love and never wanted to be. Landa was independent and focussed, his senses finally attuned to his hedonistic desires. He was also a solitary man, keeping most of himself locked away inside his mind, refusing to open up to other people. The more you invested in another person, the more it weakened you and made you susceptible to their influence. Landa could not envisage any scenario where he could love another person, giving his heart and soul to them forever. It was so against every part of his nature that the concept of love felt almost perverse.

So was it simply lust? Well of course he had felt lust towards the girl, how could he not? Landa glowed happily as remembered that beautiful sight, Emmanuelle's pale white back arching upwards with each of his thrusts, her curvy buttocks vibrating gently with each movement. Any man who was fortunate enough to make love to a girl as pretty and needy as Emmanuelle would certainly feel lust. But lust still wasn't quite right. Landa struggled as he searched his mind for the correct description. He had felt...

Paternal.

He mulled over this thought before nodding gently to himself. He had felt a glow of paternal affection towards Emmanuelle. Not love but a sudden desire to wrap his strong arms around her and protect the delicate little girl who had been staring up into his eyes.

Landa smiled vaguely as he thought about that strange feeling that had swelled in his chest. He had never had children and didn't want any. People had said in the past to him that surely he would like a son, a strong young man who could grow up to be just like his powerful father. Landa had usually smiled and not replied, not prepared to argue the point of explain his true feelings. In reality, Landa could think of nothing worse than having a son. Landa knew that whatever he grew up to be, any son of his would have been a disappointment. Landa was so entrenched in what he considered to be male perfection that he knew no boy could ever hope to reach his high standards. The thought of a young son growing up to be nothing like him had made Landa want nothing more than to never have a child. A son would bring him nothing but frustration and disappointment.

What Landa had never confided in anyone was that in his deepest, most private thoughts he had always secretly craved a daughter. He could imagine a daughter, a pretty little girl who would have looked up admiringly to her strong masculine father. Landa could almost picture her, looking at him with adoration, overwhelmed by her handsome, powerful father. Landa liked nothing more than being in control, dominating a situation or person, and the idea of a devoted little daughter who would worship the very ground he walked on was privately very appealing. Of course he knew it would never happen, and in many ways he didn't want it to, but this didn't stop the idea being one of his most secret fantasies.

Landa knew now that this was exactly the feeling that had swept over him when Emmanuelle had looked at him with such hungry desperation, craving just one more display of affection. She was easily young enough to be his daughter, the perfect model of the pretty besotted little girl that lived deep in the darkest part of his imagination. In that moment Landa had wanted to be like a father figure to her, strong and protecting, inspiring nothing but love and devotion in return. The fantasy was tarnished of course by the fact that this desire sat firmly alongside Landa's lust to have sex with Emmanuelle again.

Landa finished his drink and began to undress quickly, keen to get to bed. He felt strangely ill at ease, the realisation of his feelings sitting uncomfortably in his chest. He climbed into bed and gave an irritable growl of frustration. Trying to understand the complex murkiness of his own mind was something he should avoid.

* * *

It was past midnight when Shosanna heard the front door close and footsteps pad quietly up the stairs. She leapt to her feet, staring at the bedroom door, waiting fearfully for Marcel to enter the room. She had scrutinised her face and body a dozen times but was still terrified; surely he would know, she must be emitting some sort of sign that Landa had touched her.

Marcel entered the room. Shosanna's heavy guilt stung even more painfully when she saw the look of deep apology on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, rushing towards her, "I'm so very, very sorry."

Shosanna couldn't bear it. "It doesn't matter," she said but he interrupted.

"It does matter," Marcel said firmly, "you needed my support and I wasn't there for you. I'm so sorry. I know why you're doing this and I promise not to be so selfish in the future."

Shosanna tried to give a casual smile but Marcel put his arms around her and held her tight, kissing her with his usual tenderness.

You're such a good man, Shosanna thought silently, you don't deserve what I'm doing to you.

Very gently Marcel manoeuvred Shosanna to the bed, lying down on it and holding her in his arms, kissing her affectionately over and over. Shosanna tried to block him out, the knowledge of his love too painful to accept. He drifting mind slammed back down to reality when Marcel gently rolled her onto her back and lifted her nightdress, undoing his own trousers with the other hand.

Shosanna couldn't face this, it was too much.

"No, Marcel," she said, trying to sound cheerful, "not tonight."

Marcel looked down at her, surprised. "Why not?" he asked.

Shosanna hesitated. "I'm just very tired," she said, aware of how feeble the excuse sounded.

Marcel laughed warmly. "Come on Shosanna, after everything that's happened..."

"No," she replied firmly, "please, not tonight."

Marcel's smile disappeared in an instant, an expression of confusion and hurt on his face. Shosanna silently begged him to understand.

"Sorry," he said, moving away from her, "it was just, after everything that happened earlier, it felt important to me that we should make love."

Shosanna looked at his sad eyes. She had hurt him so badly. If he knew what else she had done it would probably kill him.

Reluctantly, but desperate to try and make amends to him, Shosanna pulled Marcel forward and wrapped her legs around him. She felt sick to the stomach as he slid inside her, turning her face away so that he could kiss her neck rather than her mouth. Shosanna had never felt so guilty in her entire life, her body tarnished forever with unfaithfulness, the knowledge of Landa's intimate presence gnawing away painfully at her conscience. Marcel was moving more decisively now, every motion punctuated with such love and tenderness. Shosanna couldn't stand being on the receiving end of his love, especially when she had never deserved it less. She closed her eyes and tried to blank out what was happening; it was too painful to watch Marcel's face, he still under the delusion that he was the only man Shosanna had ever slept with.


	6. Chapter 6

_Welcome to Part 6 of The Emerald Lady._

_Once again I am hugely grateful to the kind feedback and reviews I have recieved. Please continue to make the time to leave a few words, it means so much to hear your thoughts and feelings._

_This chapter is many ways was oneI had been planning from the very beginning. I've always had very strong feelings about Shosanna and how her life would have developed upon meeting Marcel. It is this backstory which provoked this entire fiction, based on my theory that a young vulnerable girl would be lavished with love and gentle affection, ignoring perhaps the more carnal desires beneath the exterior. So this chapter is very heavily built around Shosanna, her past and thoughts. _

_As always, all characters are the copyright of Quentin Tarantino._

_Enjoy_

* * *

Shosanna lay in the bath, the water slightly too hot for comfort. She had an overwhelming urge to be clean and fresh, as if half scalding her body would somehow eradicate the memories of what she had allowed it to do. She had got out of bed as early as wouldn't look suspicious and had been in the bath ever since. Marcel was still asleep, blissfully believing that he would soon be waking up to a house reunited in love and happiness. But Shosanna knew she was far from happy.

In many ways, Landa coming back into her life had made her realise something that was infinitely more distressing; she had never been truly happy. Tears brimmed in her eyes; the last time she could honestly say she had been completely happy was when her family had been alive.

Shosanna didn't think of them often as the pain was too much to bear. But lying in the bath, her mind so confused and disorientated, those last few months in the LaPadite house seemed more vivid than ever.

She remembered the LaPadite's so well; they had been such a good family. Her mother had been too scared to hide with the LaPadite's at first, fearful as to what would happen to them if the Nazi's discovered what they were doing. But Monsieur LaPadite had been a brave man, willing to risk everything to protect his friends and neighbours.

Shosanna had found those months of hiding hard. She had not complained at the time as their lives had been in danger and she knew the things that bothered her were so trivial in comparison. But nothing changed the fact that she had been 19, a young woman, craving her own life. She had adored her family but she had still wished deep down that she had some space of her own and a tiny bit of independence. Every night she had gone to bed, snuggled tightly close to Amos and Bob, privately disliking the life she found herself in. Well what young woman wanted to spend all day and night with her younger brother? Shosanna had dreamed of the day she would have her own bedroom, be able to walk down the road without others around her and spend time with her own friends.

She had never mentioned any of these thoughts to the rest of the family as they were wildly inappropriate problems to bother her poor mother with. The only person she had ever confided in had been Charlotte. Shosanna's tears began to drip slowly down her face as she remembered Charlotte. The girl had been only slightly younger than her and the two had been like sisters. She had liked the other two LaPadite girls very much, but Charlotte had been special. Shosanna and Charlotte had spent many hours talking, Charlotte never once belittling Shosanna's petty desires for privacy, friends or simply the ability to be alone for a while. Charlotte had been such a thoughtful girl, doing everything she could to help Shosanna. During the day when it was safe she had let Shosanna use her bedroom, simply to give her some precious moments of solitude. They had done lots of feminine things together which had made Shosanna feel that she wasn't missing out on the life most women her age were leading. Together they had found secluded corners of the farmhouse where they had played at styling each other's hair and holding whispered conversations about boys Charlotte had seen in the village.

Charlotte had talked incessantly about how all she wanted in life was to marry, have children and run a happy farmhouse like her parents had done. The more Charlotte had talked about it, the more Shosanna had come to believe that this was indeed the correct aspiration of any young woman. She too had decided that whenever the war was over she would make it a priority to find a decent young man and marry. After all, that was what happiness was, being in love and having someone love you back.

That final day, the day when everything had changed, was too vivid to recall. It hurt too much. Shosanna tended to gloss over the most painful parts in her mind, picking up her memories only when her 19 year old self had reached woodlands. She had been gasping and panting, her body wracked with pain after being forced to run long past the point when it had wanted to stop. She remembered sinking to her knees, taking the weight off her burning, bleeding feet and her whole body starting to shudder with sobs.

They were gone. Everyone. Her family, Amos, Charlotte. Shosanna had sat on the ground weeping so hard that it became painful, and yet that pain provided a strange sense of relief, as if exerting on her some form of punishment. She had wished for solitude and privacy, for the opportunity to be alone and do simple things like bath and dress without people always around her. Well she had certainly got her wish. Now she was alone forever, in a state of permanent solitude. The guilt was terrible as she recalled the times she had got irritable with Bob or silently wished Amos would leave her alone for a while. Now he would never annoy her again, never make her laugh, never chat away about the farm animals he loved so much, never play that silly trick which ended in him pulling her hair. Amos was gone and knowing she could never have him back again hurt Shosanna like a knife to her heart.

Somehow Shosanna had staggered away and found her way to a small town. She wasn't even quite sure how but she had managed to piece together some form of life, mostly thanks to the Mimieux's. She never stopped telling them over and over how much she appreciated what they had done for her. Ada had always smiled sweetly, thinking of Shosanna as an affectionate and sweet girl, but Shosanna knew her actions were fuelled by motives from the past. She had never got a chance to tell her family she loved them, nor told Charlotte than she considered her a sister. Shosanna had vowed that from that day on, anyone who showed her love would receive every ounce of gratitude she could muster. Love was a rare and wonderful thing; Shosanna had lost so much of it on that day and didn't think she could cope if she lost everything again.

When Shosanna had first met Marcel she had been cautious. He was a good man, hardworking and kind, the sort of man that any girl would want to marry. Shosanna had been scared to become close to him, for fear he too would be taken away. But after months of gentle courtship, she had finally allowed her heart to take over and they had fallen in love.

When Marcel had heard the story of Shosanna's family he had been horrified, holding her tightly to his chest as she had wept. Marcel had looked down at the pretty face, so frightened and vulnerable. He had promised her faithfully that he would look after her and protect her always, and that he would always love her and never do anything to hurt her. Shosanna had clung to him tightly and glowed with reassurance; this was what Charlotte had always talked of, finding a man who was loving and good.

Marcel had dated a few women before Shosanna, and he had been both nervous and apprehensive when she shyly confessed to being a virgin. The night they had finally agreed to make love for the first time had been punctuated by Marcel's constant reassurances and promises to be gentle and not hurt her. Shosanna had never forgotten that night, although she doubted that many women could forget the night they lost their virginity. Lying in Marcel's bed, he penetrating her with exceptional tenderness, she had felt a connection she had never experienced. This must surely be love, the unity of their two bodies, joined together in an act of such private intimacy. Her mother had always taught her that sex was something a woman only did in order to consummate her love for the man who was to be her husband. Shosanna remembered this as the months turned into years and her relationship with Marcel became a part of her life. Their life was not particularly exciting or special but it was safe, loving and provided the stability that Shosanna needed.

And now what?

Shosanna knew that the return of Landa had upset everything. She had been drifting along aimlessly in the status quo of her life, sometimes perhaps bothered by the lack of event of excitement, but still satisfied overall. But now he had appeared, bridging the memories of the past with the calmness of the present and consequently destroying everything.

Shosanna sat up, sloshing some of the bath water over the sides and onto the floor. She wished she could be like that first day in the cafe, consumed with all encompassing hatred. She did still hate Landa, but in a way which was much more complicated and difficult to comprehend.

It was awful to admit, but Landa's presence had forced her to acknowledge the gaps in her fragile life, none more notable than Marcel. Shosanna closed her eyes, wishing more than anything that the thoughts that were inducing so much guilt would go away. She knew they had always existed but she had buried them, deep under a superficial layer of love and happiness for Marcel and the quiet little life they had created.

Shosanna loved Marcel, she really did. But she couldn't lie to herself; life with him was repetitive, safe and often dull. It was a horrible irony that Marcel's greatest strength was also his biggest weakness. In trying so hard to love and protect Shosanna, he had taken all the excitement and fun out of life and left her privately craving for more. She had never dared to mention this, primarily because she had not even acknowledged it herself. History had taught her that not appreciating loved ones was a dangerous thing, and she feared that criticising Marcel's safe and kind love would result in her losing yet another person in her life.

Shosanna felt angry that of all the people to make her unpleasantly aware of her deepest secrets, it had to be Hans Landa. As if he had not already done enough damage! It was easy to blame Landa, his destructive presence having uprooted the stability of her normal life. But Shosanna couldn't deny that however wrong it was, Landa had touched a part of her she had never explored before.

In many ways this wasn't even about Marcel. First and foremost it was about sex. Shosanna shivered with guilty pleasure as she recalled Landa's hands on her body, his forceful but experienced touch, the way he had skilfully used his fingers and tongue to pleasure her with unimaginable power. Shosanna had never known sex like that; she had always dutifully recalled her mother's words and seen it as something that simply existed between Marcel and her. Marcel was a sweet and gentle man, but now Shosanna had tasted forbidden fruits, she wanted nothing more than to experience that feeling again. It felt wrong to compare Landa and Marcel, but Shosanna was well aware that Marcel had never once brought her to the shuddering, pounding orgasm that Landa had achieved. His aggression, his power, his complete force and control was the most intoxicatingly erotic thing Shosanna had ever encountered.

Shosanna stood up and got out of the bath, the scalding water having finally grown tepid. She was just about to pick up her towel when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She stood transfixed for a moment, staring at her wet and naked body. She stepped closer to the mirror, studying herself with greater intensity.

She had never really done this, actually taken the time to let her eyes drift over her own flesh. She was struck with how pale her skin was, almost porcelain, so delicate looking and fragile. She touched her abdomen gently; what did Marcel think when he looked at and caressed this skin? The body of a pure, faithful partner, a mere girl in his eyes, with nothing more interesting about her than a loving heart. Could he have ever looked through this pure skin and guessed the darker Shosanna, the more needy and hedonistic woman that she had repressed deeply in favour of conventional romance? That was the woman Landa had spotted, that day when they had eaten strudel. It was those animalistic and needy desires that he had gently teased out of her, throwing waves of confusion and guilt into her life. Shosanna picked up her towel; it was also that woman inside her that wanted to experience Landa again.

* * *

Dieter Hellstrom had as usual gone beyond the call of duty in undertaking Landa's orders. Landa had requested that he be at the cinema by 8am but Hellstrom had been sitting there since 7.15am.

He yawned and rubbed his sore eyes. He had not slept well last night, his mind constantly turning over the many unsatisfactory elements of this situation. There was so much that seemed wrong. Landa had him spying on a cinema which contained nothing more than a girl and a Negro projectionist. And why waste time observing the cinema anyway? The residents didn't seem to be doing anything wrong and Landa was head of security for the film premier; he had the right to march in there at any time and inspect anything he wanted. Hellstrom knew that his greatest point of contention was Landa's attitude towards the girl. The way he had announced last night he was going into the building, with an air of familiarity that Hellstrom found intriguing. Most telling of all, Landa had snapped visibly when Hellstrom had tried to query his actions, surely the response of a man trying to hide something.

Hellstrom clicked his tongue irritably. He hated not knowing things, especially where Landa was concerned. Hellstrom knew he was foolish, but he couldn't deny his adoration and complete obsession with Landa and everything about him. In his most private fantasies he imagined himself as the sole object of Landa's affections, possessing the Standartenführer's mind, body and soul. He was not completely naive; he knew the chances of him being the only one who Landa fucked on occasion was slight. And yet it did not stop him being achingly curious about anyone that Landa was interested in.

Hellstrom knew he couldn't ask Landa to elaborate upon the situation with Emmanuelle Mimieux or why he wanted her watched. Landa had made it abundantly clear last night that the subject was closed. But Dieter Hellstrom was not a man who gave up easily, especially when it came to the object of his fevered imagination.

* * *

Shosanna decided to go to the shops; she needed to get away from the cinema. Marcel was being more kind and relaxed than humanly possible, making ambitious promises to not get upset about the situation with Landa, regardless of what happened. She had nodded appreciatively but made her excuses to leave and walk away from the stifling guilt of his presence.

Shosanna walked fast down the road, as if getting away quickly would help her mind to calm down faster. She had barely left the cinema out of sight when a firm hand gripped her arm. She spun round aggressively to see who had grabbed her.

"Good morning, Mademoiselle," Dieter Hellstrom said, flashing his most charming smile, "we meet again."

Shosanna scowled at him. She remembered this man, the rude, arrogant Gestapo officer who had dragged her away in the car that day. She narrowed her eyes at him, her mind suddenly filling with scorn. She had been frightened of him that day; he had seemed so intimidating in his uniform, his clear blue eyes staring at her with icy disdain. However, since encountering the powerful presence of Landa, Shosanna almost wanted to laugh at this young fool. He was a mere boy, a silly stupid little boy playing at being a detective, swooping down on her like a bat in his overly large leather coat with the impression that he was an intimidating sight. Shosanna gave him a sarcastic smile.

"Did you want something?"

Hellstrom raised his eyebrows, clearly taken aback by her indifferent tone.

"You remember me Mademoiselle?" he asked, "we met at the..."

"Yes I remember you," Shosanna snapped, "but that wasn't what I asked. Either tell me what you want or get out of my way."

Hellstrom's eyes grew glazed with annoyance.

"I really wouldn't take that tone with me young lady," he said, clipping every word with dangerous malice, "I suggest you remember who you are speaking to and learn a few manners."

Shosanna laughed out loud.

"Offending you am I?" she said scornfully, "well sorry to disappoint you but unfortunately I don't find you in the least bit frightening."

She flung his arm away and continued to walk. She had barely gone a few steps when the Gestapo officer grabbed her arm again, this time pulling her round to face him. Shosanna could see from his flushed cheeks and blazing eyes that he was angry.

"I'd be careful if I were you," he hissed angrily, "if not you might get another visit from someone with more power than me. He could shut down your cinema and toss you in prison before the day is out."

"And who are you referring to?" Shosanna asked, trying hard to keep a tone of boredom in her voice, "inviting Hitler himself over for a few days?"

"I was more thinking of Standartenführer Hans Landa," Hellstrom said, narrowing his eyes as he studied her face for a reaction.

He was not disappointed. Thrown by the unexpected inclusion of Landa's name, Shosanna swallowed and looked at the ground.

"Who?" she asked. She knew immediately it was a foolish lie.

"Sorry," he stuttered, "you mean the security chief?"

"Yes," Hellstrom replied, "it wouldn't take long for him to get here. He knows the way, I'm sure he's been here before."

"No he hasn't" said Shosanna clearly.

Hellstrom felt excitement building in his stomach, the sensation he always got when uncovering a lie. The speed of her response, the flat denial. There was no doubt the girl was lying.

"Oh," Hellstrom said with feigned innocence, "I thought he had visited your cinema. Are you saying he's never been here?"

They locked eyes, Hellstrom's questioning and probing, Shosanna's innocent and brazen.

"No, he hasn't" she said firmly.

Hellstrom's face broke into a predatory smile that unnerved Shosanna.

"Danke Mademoiselle," he said with oily charm, "you have been most helpful."

With a click of his heels, Hellstrom turned and walked away, his wide grin being the last thing Shosanna saw. She watched him walk away and felt extremely uneasy. She wasn't sure why, but she had no doubt that she had just said something very wrong.

* * *

Hellstrom spent the rest of his duty in a state of nervous excitement. He still wasn't quite sure what he had discovered but he knew for a fact that Emmanuelle Mimieux had lied. Landa had been there the night before and she had denied it, even stupidly claiming not to know who Landa was. Hellstrom grinned to himself; this was the ammunition he needed to get more information out of Landa. He would concoct a lie, something about Emmanuelle having spotted him and engaged him in conversation. He wasn't quite sure how, but somehow he would casually drop into the conversation that Emmanuelle had not remembered Landa, which seemed strange as he had visited the previous night. Hellstrom knew it was flimsy but his burning curiosity needed satisfying.

He entered the SS Headquarters at 6pm. He knew Landa would still be there, he rarely left before the night fell. Hellstrom marched smartly up to his office door and rapped briskly.

"Yes?" called out Landa's voice.

Hellstrom entered the office, saluting smartly. Landa looked up from a desk that appeared to be drowning in paper. He looked tired but his eyes lit up upon seeing Hellstrom.

"Ah, Dieter," he said enthusiastically, "another productive day I hope?"

"Ja, Standartenführer, a good day," Hellstrom replied.

"Well, anything to report?" Landa asked.

Hellstrom opened his mouth but then hesitated. He looked at Landa whose eyes had narrowed shrewdly at the sudden pause. Hellstrom knew he had only seconds to make a decision.

"Nothing, Standartenführer" Hellstrom said.

"Nothing?" Landa asked, looking disappointed.

"No, Standartenführer," Hellstrom continued, "nothing to report."

Hellstrom was a man who believed strongly in gut instinct. Something within him told him that the time to use this piece of knowledge was not now.


	7. Chapter 7

_A very quick update this time!_

_I've just been consumed with my various fictions recently and have not stopped writing. This chapter has been in my head from the very beginning and I always planned to have it and it felt very right at this point. _

_As ever your kind reviews and feedback mean a lot so please, please keep them coming._

_All characters are the copywrite of Quentin Tarantino._

_WARNING! This chapter contains some strong sexual content_

* * *

The end of the week came and went and Shosanna did not hear from Landa. She was frustrated and annoyed that he had not bothered to contact her since that night he had visited. She wondered vaguely if he would never return, now that he had had his fun. But her instincts told her he would be back and that Landa was a man who would want more from a woman than just sex.

She carried on life as normal but found herself frequently looking out of the windows or peering into the distance for any sign of a vehicle that might look like it belonged to a Nazi colonel. None appeared. What she did notice however was multiple reappearances from the young Gestapo officer who had accosted her in the street. A few times she had seen him walk past the cinema and out of sight across the square but no car would then depart from the area. She had the uneasy feeling that he was loitering on purpose, perhaps even keeping a watch on her. Shosanna knew she was being paranoid, but something about the young man with the cold eyes made her uncomfortable. She knew from the wide grin he had flashed at the end of their last meeting that she had somehow given him some sort of information, although she could not fathom what is was. He had not approached her, but Shosanna had vowed to keep as silent as possible if he ever confronted her again.

All the time she was privately waiting for Landa to appear, Marcel had continued his constant stream of renewed support, vowing to not get upset if she was required to see the Colonel again.

"After all," he said cheerfully one night over dinner, "you did say it was just to get to know him, before we worked out how we can get rid of him completely."

Shosanna had nodded at this but a sick feeling had gathered inside. They had been foolish words from the start; she could never have hoped to do anything that would make a man as powerful as Hans Landa disappear. But things had now changed and even if an idea did emerge, she knew that she would not want him to go. Her encounter with Landa had only been the beginning; Shosanna felt sure there was more yet to learn from him.

It was not until Tuesday morning that the contact she had been waiting for finally arrived. Shosanna was sweeping the foyer floor when she heard sharp footsteps coming up the cinema stairs. She turned just as a young man in SS uniform marched smartly through. She wasn't completely sure but she thought she recognised him as Landa's driver. The young man tipped his cap politely.

"Good Morning, Mademoiselle," he said, "I've been sent by Standartenführer Landa with a message."

Shosanna raised her eyebrows expectantly, hoping her face did not betray the buzzing excitement that was pounding in her head.

"Firstly," the soldier continued, "the Standartenführer asks me to apologise for not contacting you sooner, he has been in great demand recently. His second apology is for sending this request via messenger and not coming to see you himself."

Shosanna nodded graciously to indicate that both apologies were accepted.

"The Standartenführer requests that you dine with him tonight, Mademoiselle," the soldier said, "if you are agreeable, I am to collect you from here at 8pm or earlier if you prefer."

Shosanna felt a shudder of relief running through her body. Although she had doubted it, she had been distressed to think that Landa would not have contacted her after their intimate encounter. Finally hearing from him had made her feel much happier.

"Yes, that's fine," Shosanna replied, "8pm would be lovely."

The soldier bowed his head slightly before turning on his heel and leaving. Shosanna watched him leave before throwing her broom back into the cupboard, there was no way she could concentrate on domestic chores now. She felt excited to be seeing Landa again, her deep lustful desires feeling thrilled at the thought of being close to him. But she was also nervous and slightly embarrassed. They hadn't even spoken since having sex and she had no idea what his responses towards her would be. Maybe he considered her as nothing more than a cheap whore and was only now inviting her to dinner as his lust needed satisfying. But there was no way of knowing until she saw him.

Shosanna started getting ready very early to Marcel's surprise. Her stomach was tingling and she couldn't concentrate with excitement; she wanted to look her absolute best for Landa. She had bathed early and slathered her entire body in silky cream. She painted her nails a deep scarlet red and spent a long time meticulously drying her hair so it lay sleek and shiny. She applied heavier make up than usual, adding dark grey eye shadow and thick eyeliner to her normal look to accentuate her eyes. She spent ages choosing what to wear, trying to resist the sore temptation to wear her emerald dress again, the one she knew Landa had liked. In the end she settled for a tight black dress with an elegant cut that skimmed her body gracefully. So as to hint to Landa that she had not forgotten his preference, she accessorised the look with emerald green earrings, a necklace and small handbag. She slipped into the highest heels she owned before spraying her neck, body and hair with liberal amounts of perfume.

Marcel eyed her suspiciously when she came down the stairs to await the driver.

"Gone to a lot of effort for him, haven't you?" he asked.

Shosanna checked the contents of her handbag as an excuse not to catch Marcel's eye.

"He's a colonel, Marcel," she replied calmly, "he expects his date to make an effort."

Marcel did not look happy but bit his lip, clearly trying very hard to stand by his promise to be supportive and not jealous. Shosanna was relieved when the sleek car pulled up outside the cinema.

"Goodbye darling," she said hurriedly, pecking Marcel on the cheek.

"What time will you be home?"

"Well I don't know," Shosanna said, "that's up to him, isn't it?"

Marcel opened his mouth as if to protest but seemed to think better of it and closed it again. He nodded curtly at her as she turned away from him to leave. Shosanna felt only excitement and no guilt as she hurried out to the car.

The driver was already standing with the passenger door open. He greeted Shosanna politely, held the door open while she climbed in and then shut it firmly. He returned to the driver's seat and began to move away.

Shosanna was surprised; she had been expecting Landa to be in the car, ready for them to go to dinner together. She hesitated but then decided to ask the driver.

"Colonel Landa not with you?" she asked.

"No," he replied.

Shosanna flushed; it had been a fairly silly question.

"So where is he?"

"My instructions were to collect you and take you to join the Standartenführer for dinner"

This sounded perfectly reasonably to Shosanna.

"Where are we dining?" she asked.

"The Standartenführer's townhouse," replied the driver.

Shosanna felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach, forcing all the air out.

"What?" she exclaimed, "you're taking me to his house?"

"Ja" was the monotone reply.

Shosanna was now racked with nerves. Dining with Landa in a restaurant seemed safe and easy, a controllable situation. But in his house, Shosanna would be entirely alone. The thought was both terrifying and arousing.

"Is there a problem, Mademoiselle?" asked the driver.

Shosanna almost laughed; what exactly was the driver intending to do if there was a problem? He would not disobey Landa's orders regardless of what she said.

"No problem," Shosanna replied.

Landa's townhouse was not far beyond the outskirts of town. The car pulled up and Shosanna climbed out apprehensively. The house looked so normal it almost seemed strange to think such an extraordinary person lived there. The driver marched swiftly to the front door and rapped loudly. Shosanna went and stood next to him, waiting for the door to open.

Landa must have been waiting for them as he opened the front door within seconds.

"Danke Hermann," he said, not completely visible to Shosanna as he was still lurking in the shadows of the hallway. "I'll take Mademoiselle Mimieux from here."

Hermann the driver saluted smartly before retreating. Landa clearly had high standards when it came to choosing his staff.

Landa stepped forward, now bathed in the full light of the outside lamp. Shosanna almost sighed audibly. He was as achingly handsome as she recalled from the previous week, his eyes gleaming and a half smile lingering around his mouth. He was in full uniform; Shosanna wondered if he ever wore anything else, it seemed to be welded to his body. Maybe he did not own any other clothes. She felt an overwhelming urge to laugh as an image of Landa going to bed in uniform, complete with hat and boots, popped into her head. He must have caught a hint of a smile on her face as he returned it with his most charming grin.

"Glad to see you in high spirits, Emmanuelle," he said, sweeping her hand up to kiss it tenderly.

Shosanna felt a sudden wave of embarrassment as their eyes met. The last time she had seen Landa she had been naked, lying on a table, moaning and crying out for him. Looking at his face now, she found it difficult to comprehend that she had had sex with this man. He had touched her, licked her, come deep inside her. The wave of memories coming back to her was making her feel desperately awkward.

If Landa noticed her embarrassment he didn't mention it. Standing aside he guided her through the front door and into his house.

Shosanna could tell instantly that this was Landa's home; it was as pristine and neat as the man himself. The place was immaculately tidy and clean without a single thing out of place. The sitting room was small but cosy, books lining most of one wall and a fire burning merrily away. Landa led Shosanna into the dining room where the pattern was much the same. The dining table was set for two, an open dresser of glasses and plates standing against one wall. Landa pulled out one chair for Shosanna to sit down. She sat, shivering with pleasure at his old fashioned chivalry.

"I hope you're hungry, my dear," he said warmly, "we've got quite a little feast to share."

"Have you cooked?" she asked in surprise.

Landa laughed.

"Well, actually, Emmanuelle, I can cook," he replied, "but certainly not whilst I am stationed in France. Far too busy. That's why I have Hermann. I could have asked him to wait on us tonight but I thought it might be nice to have a little privacy."

Shosanna's face flushed slightly hot, presuming in her head what Landa's desire for privacy meant. He left the room briefly and returned with a steaming bowl.

"Soup, Mademoiselle?"

* * *

The food had been excellent and the continuous glasses of wine superb. Landa was a genial host, serving Shosanna effortlessly. How different she felt to the last time they had met, watching tensely as he had talked away about himself. Tonight she matched him eagerly, chatting away about literature, music and film. They didn't have much in common; Landa was hugely well read and extremely intelligent, having experienced so much more of life and culture than Shosanna. At first she had felt inadequate, but he had kindly brushed over the gaps in her knowledge to avoid her feeling ignorant. After dinner, Landa had taken the bottle of whiskey from his drinks cabinet and two glasses and they had continued talking in the sitting room.

As they talked Shosanna found herself getting sleepy, the warm fire, good food and alcohol taking its toll. She leaned her head back against the sofa, her eyes resting on the bare mantelpiece.

"You don't have many possessions, do you?" Shosanna asked, looking at the rest of the sparse room.

Lands shook his head firmly.

"No," he said, "I don't like all this clutter and things that people seem to want nowadays. Possessions are meaningless, just useless objects that get broken and damaged."

Shosanna frowned; what strange attitudes he had. Surely everyone becomes attached to their possessions? Could he really think that owning things was meaningless? She noticed a small clock on the coffee table that read 11.23pm.

"When will Hermann drive me home?" Shosanna asked.

Landa finished his glass of whiskey.

"He won't be," Landa said shortly, "Hermann went off duty after he left you here."

Shosanna sat up, startled.

"Well how can I get home?" she asked.

"You're not going home," Landa said, smiling, "you're spending the night here."

Shosanna looked back at his smiling face, a mixture of anger and disgust at his brazen behaviour.

"Well that was very presumptuous of you," she snapped angrily, "assuming I would want to spend the night here just because we..."

She stopped suddenly as embarrassment flooded her veins. Landa had not mentioned the intimacies of the previous week and Shosanna had certainly not thought to discuss the issue. Landa looked at her indignant face and smiled gently.

"My dear Emmanuelle," he said gently, "you misunderstand me. It seemed unfair to keep Hermann sitting in the kitchen on duty simply to drive you home. I had him make up the spare bedroom for you earlier in the evening."

Shosanna watched his eyes, finding it hard to believe he was telling the truth.

"As hard as you may find this to believe," he continued, "I consider myself a gentleman. Just because we made love before I do not presume to think it will happen again."

Shosanna started to feel even more stupid as he looked her frankly and directly in the face.

"However," he said, his voice becoming slightly throatier, "I am also an honest man. I am not going to pretend that my bed is not available to you if you should choose to join me. But that is your decision, Emmanuelle."

They did not converse anymore as Landa led Shosanna to his spare room, she feeling extremely embarrassed about having finally forced sex to be mentioned. Landa still had that infuriatingly smug look on his face, clearly delighting in her discomfort.

"This room doesn't get used much," Landa said, sweeping his hand around to gesture at the walls, "but I'm sure it will be comfortable for you."

"Thankyou," said Shosanna quietly.

Landa looked at her until she finally looked up to meet his gaze. He stepped forward and very lightly kissed her on the cheek. She gave a tiny gasp at the brush of his soft lips.

"Goodnight Emmanuelle," he said quietly, standing up straight and giving an elegant little bow.

Landa turned and left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Shosanna sat on the bed, every inch of her body craving for more.

* * *

Landa waited until he got into his own bedroom before allowing himself to break into a triumphant grin. Seduction always had been one of his finest skills, and if he was not mistaken, he had worked his charms to perfection tonight. He had thought his little touch about the spare bedroom would work perfectly, force Emmanuelle to seek him out rather than the other way around. He predicted she would be knocking on his bedroom door within the next 30 minutes. He had almost laughed with his claim that he was not expecting sex from her. Landa knew that however much seduction was required, he would be having passionate sex with Emmanuelle Mimieux before the night was over.

Landa removed his uniform and hung it up carefully. He continued to remove his clothes until he was naked, pausing to admire his reflection in the mirror. Landa knew he was vain but felt it was not a negative trait as he has good reason. He looked after his body well, never eating excessively and exercising regularly to stay toned. His job certainly helped with this as he rarely had time to eat properly and spent a considerable amount of his day attending raids and various happenings around the town.

Landa grinned slightly thinking of Emmanuelle in the next room, his cock already semi-erect in anticipation. Trusting his instincts that he would not have long to wait, Landa turned off the lights and climbed into bed, the hunter lying in wait for its prey.

* * *

Shosanna paced the little bedroom, feeling agitated. In many respects the night was inevitable; she knew she couldn't resist Landa. He was in the other room, waiting and available, and the prospect of making love to him again was too powerful to overcome. Shosanna had decided to give herself one last chance to resist but she knew the effort was useless.

Quickly she began to undress, laying her discarded clothes on the bed. She didn't think she could stand the tension if Landa undressed her but was certainly not brazen enough to walk into his bedroom naked. When she was undressed, she found a towel that had been thoughtfully laid out for her by Hermann and wrapped it around her, knotting it over her breasts. As quietly as she could, she padded out of the door and over to the room she assumed was Landa's.

The room was dark when she entered, although enough pale moonlight was showing to allow her to make out the bed. A figure could clearly be made out on one side. Shosanna wondered if he was asleep.

"Hans?" she whispered cautiously.

He sat up instantly, responding the moment he had heard her voice. She couldn't see him as the room was too dark, but the stiffness of his posture and depth of his breathing indicated he was clearly aroused. Landa shifted until he was sitting at the end of the bed, Shosanna standing before him. She wished she could see him, but as his hands snaked up her sides, she began to thank the anonymity of the black night, her inhibitions slowly melting at his touch.

Landa's fingers found the knot in her towel and undid it, letting it drop to the floor. Shosanna gasped as the cold air hit her naked body, the warmth of Landa's breathe wafting onto her chest. He did not touch her breasts but instead found her shoulders, pushing gently in order to force her to her knees. Shosanna could feel herself growing wetter as he guided her between his legs.

Shosanna gave a little gasp when she leaned her hand out to grasp his cock. It felt hot and big and so very, very hard. She ran her hand along it, shivering at the thickness and length and how good she knew it felt when buried deep inside her. She leant forward and buried her face into his groin, the hardness of his cock and softness of his hair rubbing against her face. She heard him groan with pleasure when she began to apply long, wet licks to his cock before teasing the head with the tip of her tongue.

Feeling Landa quivering and moaning beneath her was thrilling, the knowledge that he was flesh and blood like any man and able to be controlled when receiving pleasure from a woman. Maddeningly slowly to tease him, Shosanna opened her mouth and took his full length in until he was hitting the back of her throat.

Landa began to moan loudly as she allowed him to slide in between her lips, sucking wetly on his cock. He tasted wonderful, his smell rich and musky. Shosanna began to move her mouth more firmly, engulfing him entirely and allowing him to fill her, consumed with a desire to devour this most private part of him. She could taste the salty muskiness of his first secretions as he grew harder, his arousal growing steadily. Suddenly Landa grabbed the sides of her head roughly and began to thrust his own hips, pumping himself so forcefully into her mouth that she nearly choked. She could sense him getting more excited, his cock quivering as it came dangerously close to climax.

Shosanna was relieved when he suddenly withdrew. He leaned down and took hold of her, sweeping her up onto the bed and laying her on her back. Shosanna sighed as his hands began to run all over her body, his erection pressing firmly into her thigh. He moved his head down and his mouth found her breasts, licking them forcefully before focussing his attention on her nipples, taking them into his mouth and sucking and biting them. Shosanna wrapped her arms around his head to stop him moving, the feeling of his wet mouth on her breasts making her writhe with enjoyment. She was shaking badly by now, the desperate need for him to take her growing.

"Please, Hans, please," she moaned, "make love to me."

Landa gave a little chuckle in the dark and moments later they both groaned together as he slid deep into her wetness. Landa moved slowly and shifted until he was all the way in before he began hard, firm thrusts. Shosanna clung to him and gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist. He was so deep inside, hitting her very core, filling her completely with his full length. Landa was leaning over her now, his arms supporting his weight, his hips doing all the work.

"Moan for me, moan for me," he hissed in the darkness, the pleasure lacing his voice.

Shosanna moaned in time with his thrusts, each time he hit her inside causing her to gasp.

"Come on, come on, you can do better," he said harshly, "I said moan. Moan for me, slut."

Shosanna gave a cry of shock as Landa slapped her hard across the face. Her face stung and she froze, unable to speak or even react. Landa's laugh came again.

"Don't lie then and pretend," he sneered, "you like that? Don't you, little whore."

He slapped her again.

"No..." she tried to say.

"Don't lie!" he snarled, his voice edged with danger, "I know you, Emmanuelle. Dirty little slut aren't you? Been fantasising about getting fucked by me ever since we met. And don't pretend it's not true. I see you, moaning for me like the whore you are. Like nothing better than getting fucked, don't you?"

With a stinging lash he slapped her once more but Shosanna bucked up to meet him this time. His words set her on fire, his violence giving her the punishment she deserved for being in his bed, his animal aggression being the most erotic thing she had ever encountered.

"Yes, yes," she moaned, "more!"

Landa laughed louder this time, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder and faster as he tipped her hips upwards.

"Dirty, dirty little slut," he panted as the effort became too much, "I just how you want to receive me."

With that he withdrew from her, grabbed her head and wrenched her up from the pillow by her hair. He barely entered her mouth in time before he came, his hot semen spilling down her throat as she swallowed obediently.

Neither of them spoke, their shared gasping indicating how much effort they had endured together. Landa fell onto the bed by Shosanna's side, lying on his back, and his arms above his head. Shosanna felt dazed and sore, her body aching and her face burning. She had no idea what had just happened, it seemed too extraordinary and perversely strange to comprehend. Gently, so as not to disturb him if he was already asleep, Shosanna moved in to snuggle up to Landa's bare, sweaty chest. She held him close, luxuriating in the feel of the body who had caused her more pain and pleasure than she had ever experienced in her entire life.


	8. Chapter 8

_Welcome to part 8 of what is rapidly spiralling into quite a saga in my imagination!_

_So the last chapter took us down a slightly unexpected and dark route but one which I felt was right for these characters. Fortunately, I was delighted to receive some lovely feedback from my regular readers as well as new ones._

_I know I say this every time, but receiving your feedback truly does inspire me beyond words. Every comment I receive encourages me to write more. Thankyou so much for all the time you have taken to leave reviews, please keep them coming. _

_All characters are the copyright of Quentin Tarantino._

_Some sexual content in this chapter_

* * *

It was very early when Shosanna woke up, so early that the sky outside was still a hazy grey, the sun having not quite risen yet. She felt tired but oddly invigorated and alive, as if a big ball of energy had been lit in her stomach.

She looked over at Landa who was still asleep, flat on his back, one arm raised so that his head was resting gently on his bicep. Shosanna had never seen him looking so relaxed and so at peace. The usual smirk or knowing grin was gone, replaced with an expression of contentment and relaxation. His hair, which was usually combed neatly to the side, was messy, thick tousled strands lying over his forehead. He didn't look his usual tidy and pristine self, a slight shine on his skin and the barest traces of early morning stubble somehow humanising him and making him look like nothing more than a normal man sleeping.

He looked younger, Shosanna decided, with the rigid conformity and preciseness of his usual appearance removed. Perhaps for the first time she was seeing the man who was Hans Landa rather than the persona. She remembered not that long ago having this same thought, the night after he had almost kissed her after taking her to dinner. He was a Nazi Colonel but also a man. Was it feasible for her to hate the Colonel Landa who had ordered her family's death, and yet to have such powerful feelings of attraction to the man behind the rank? Maybe she hated Landa but had feelings for Hans? She smiled; that sounded ridiculous but in a way made perfect sense. As a Colonel, Landa was cruel, sadistic and held little regard for the lives of others. He had thought nothing of ordering soldiers to blast that farmhouse floor apart with bullets, knowing all too well that a child of only nine years old lay beneath them. He was controlling and manipulative and passed off anything he did as simply part of his 'duty'. Colonel Landa had no morals or core of humanity at all.

And yet Hans Landa, the man who lay sleeping next to her at this very moment, was so different. Arrogant and vain most certainly, but in a way which was strangely endearing. He was charming and polite, with a sense of old-fashioned manners and etiquette. He was sophisticated, suave and knew exactly how to charm the affections of a lady. His fierce intelligence and broad knowledge was impressive, and he could converse eloquently and never cease to be fascinating. He was also stunningly handsome and, Shosanna blushed to admit, an extremely skilled lover.

Shosanna knew her personal experience was certainly limited, but she had never dreamt that there were men who could make love the way Hans Landa did. He was so aggressive and forceful, his animalistic lust verging on the terrifying. But at the same time his touch was so tender, his lips so incredibly soft, every moment of strength and power punctuated with gentle affection. Shosanna's cheek was still slightly tender from the slaps he had delivered the previous night, and yet he did not frighten her. Those slaps had hurt but they had awoken that dark place inside her mind yet again, that deep private recess of lust which until now had remained dormant. Landa's aggression seemed to jolt her feelings into existence, forcing her to recognise that she was not simply a girl wanting love, but a woman with a sexual appetite which had long been starved. Landa was insatiable and therefore an oddly perfect match for her, the girl who was only now realising what carnal desires she possessed.

Landa stirred and brought his arm down, shifting the covers slightly down his chest. Shosanna could now a fair proportion of the skin below his neck, one of his nipples just visible above the sheets. It occurred to her that despite the fact that they had now had sex twice, she had yet to see Landa's naked body. The first time he had been standing behind her and had remained fully clothed. Last night the pitch blackness of the bedroom had prevented her from seeing anything other than the outline of his figure.

Very gently, Shosanna slid her fingers beneath the bed covers and moved them slowly downwards until they were around Landa's waist. It felt strange, having the opportunity to study and examine another person's body whilst they lay oblivious to what was happening. Landa's chest was broad and strong looking, tapering downwards into a narrow waist and flat stomach. He looked lean and slim but not muscular, despite the fact that she knew he certainly had physical strength. His small, dark nipples were both erect and his chest was covered in a very light dusting of brown hair. His skin was smooth and rich in colour, bearing the slightly textured appearance that comes with age. Shosanna did not know how old Landa was but the difference between them was obviously considerable. However, he did not look middle aged or bear any of the unfortunate physical attributes of an older body in bad condition. He was mature and masculine, and clearly fit enough to compete with men significantly younger. Shosanna wondered if his abilities in bed had something to do with his age and maturity. It seemed fairly likely a man of this charming nature must surely have had many lovers over the years. Perhaps many different people to practice with had honed his skills and resulted in the powerful man who had brought her to such an explosive climax the previous night. Shosanna knew it was wrong, but thought guiltily of Marcel and how he compared to Landa. She and Marcel had been young when they had met and learnt about the physical side of love together. Perhaps a man who had experienced more of the world had more to offer the sexual needs of young women.

Shosanna hesitated as she moved to slide the covers down even further. It felt silly, almost immature, to want to look at the most private part of Landa' body. But surely, after tasting this piece of private flesh and having felt it deep inside her, it was only normal to actually want to see it with her own eyes. Shosanna moved the covers in order to expose Landa's cock. She felt a shiver of pleasure as she looked at it; it was thick and dark, lying semi-hard against his groin, surrounded by a soft dusting of hair. Her stomach tightened and her own flesh grew damp as she looked longingly down at his body. She just couldn't resist him.

Gently but firmly she wrapped her small hand around his cock, luxuriating in the warm, firm flesh beneath her fingers. She began to move her hand slowly along his length, her breathe growing heavier as she watched it respond, the foreskin withdrawing back over the head. Landa began to stir more vigorously in his sleep, a sigh escaping from between his lips. He would surely wake at any moment. Shosanna felt emboldened by the beatific look of bliss on his face and the sight of his chest beginning to heave more deeply in response. She moved down and replaced her hand with her lips, caressing the now fully erect cock with loving kisses before starting to lick the full length slowly. The sigh was now punctuated with a little cry as Landa moaned audibly at the indescribable pleasure being bestowed on his groin. Shosanna could not see if he was fully awake; she finally took the hot, throbbing cock into her mouth and looked up towards his face as she did.

Landa was awake, his eyes still slightly blurry from sleep, but he was clearly not tired. He was looking down at her slightly awestruck, gasping and shaking slightly at having been awoken to the sight of a young woman pleasuring him. Shosanna's body burned with pleasure, he mind thrilled at having overpowered him with her own actions. She had never felt like a particularly attractive or sexual woman, although Marcel had always assured her she was beautiful. Knowing that she, Shosanna Dreyfus, possessed enough sexual allure to reduce a man as powerful as Hans Landa to a quivering mass of ecstasy was an extraordinary feeling.

Landa was tensing now and Shosanna could sense he was coming close to climax. She took him deeper and clamped her lips around him, waiting to accept his hot fluid. However, Landa shook his head slightly and pulled his hips back, indicating to her to release him. She obeyed and he gestured to her with both his hands.

"Come here," he whispered hoarsely, "you wonderful, wonderful girl."

Shosanna moved up the bed and attempted to lie next to him so he could then roll on top of her. But Landa clearly had other ideas, gently pulling her arm and guiding one of her legs over his waist. Shosanna realised what he wanted and pulled away, her arms flying instinctively to cover her breasts.

"No, please don't" she said.

Landa looked amused. "What's wrong?" he purred smoothly, ignoring her protests and pulling both her legs into place so that she was straddling him.

Shosanna was blushing flaming red now. "Please," she said again, "I don't want you to look at me like this."

Landa smiled with surprising affection, seeming to understand. Shosanna still remained rigid, her hands covering her body, not wanting him to be able to look up at her as they made love and view her body in the same way she had done to him.

Landa took hold of Shosanna's hips and adjusted her slightly so he was able to slide inside. She moaned at the sensation, feeling him once again uniting their bodies. Gently he took her wrists and moved her arms away.

"Don't be silly," he said as his eyes flew to her exposed breasts, "you're beautiful."

Gently, Landa started to move his own hips, his hands still on hers as he silently encouraged her to do the same. Shosanna closed her eyes and focussed slowly on the physical sensations; she didn't feel able to look Landa in the eye at the moment. She wasn't used to this, being the one in the physically dominating position, her entire body exposed for him to see. She wondered what he must think, looking at her inadequacies when he had no doubt slept with far more voluptuous and beautiful women than her before.

Lying down on the bed, Landa looked up at Shosanna, moaning slightly as she began to move very cautiously. He smiled to himself; he wouldn't have thought the girl to be so shy after sharing two sexual encounters. He allowed his eyes to roam all over her. Her skin was so pale, almost porcelain, and so young and fresh looking. Landa wasn't sure if he'd ever slept with a woman as young as this; she was easily young enough to be his daughter. He placed his hands on her smooth thighs, ran them up across her abdomen and allowed them to cup her pert little breasts. It took all his strength not to climax there and then, he was so feverishly aroused.

With a sudden need to enjoy himself before it was too late, Landa began to thrust harder, forcing Shosanna to ride in time with his motions. Landa sank his fingers deep into her breasts and held them firm, watching her face contort into one of pleasure as she began to moan. Shifting slightly, Landa managed to sit up, Shosanna's legs automatically wrapping around his waist as their bodies moved closer. Shosanna gasped as she felt him sliding in even deeper before crying out as he buried his face into her breasts and began to bite her nipples gently.

It was all too much; the hazy heat of passion was threatening to engulf them both. With a heavy gasp Landa came hard just as Shosanna did, the intensity of it causing them both to sink back down into the bed.

Shosanna breathed heavily as she lay on Landa's chest, inhaling his scent and tasting the hint of saltiness on his skin. They lay like that for many minutes, until Landa gently rolled Shosanna off him so she could lie beside him. The familiar grin was back on his face.

"That wasn't so terrible, was it?" he asked playfully.

Shosanna couldn't help but meet his smile with one of her own.

They got up shortly afterwards and both washed and dressed, Landa happily explaining that as tempting as it was to spend the day in bed with her, he unfortunately had to go to work.

"Hermann will be here soon," Landa said as they both drank coffee at the kitchen table, "he'll drop you back at the cinema before we go to SS Headquarters."

Shosanna nodded before freezing in realisation.

"Hans," she said anxiously, "Hermann is going to know isn't he?"

"Sorry?" Landa asked in a puzzled tone.

"He's going to know about me, and you, and what's happened," Shosanna said, her voice thick with embarrassment.

Landa stood frozen for a moment as if waiting for his brain to entirely understand before laughing loudly.

"My dear Emmanuelle!" he said cheerfully, "Hermann is a manservant and trained in the art of discretion. Don't you think most menservants have quite an insight into their superior officer's private lives?"

"So there have been others for him to know about, then?" Shosanna asked quietly.

She didn't even know why it was on her mind, but she could not shake off the anxiety that to Landa she was simply yet another girl who would keep his bed warm for a few nights. Shosanna disliked the idea that possibly he was simply using her for sex until he got bored and moved onto the next French girl who was willing to spread her legs for him. Whilst Shosanna knew that her feelings for Landa were nothing to do with love, the physical awakening he had provoked meant that she was not ready to lose him just yet.

Landa narrowed his eyes as he looked intently at her flushed face.

"You don't think it likely I have a past?" he enquired.

"Of course I know you have," Shosanna replied, "and I want to know what it is."

Landa seemed to ponder before choosing to answer.

"Yes, Emmanuelle," he said eventually. "There have been others. You're not the first person to enter my bed."

Shosanna's face burned even hotter as her curiosity grew.

"A lot of women?" she asked casually, hoping her tone did not betray the turmoil in her stomach.

Landa smiled slyly.

"Yes," he said calmly, "quite a lot of women, and on occasion, men as well."

Shosanna froze at this sudden revelation. The surprise must have shown clearly on her face as Landa grinned even wider as he took in her reaction.

"Does that shock you?" he asked.

Shosanna didn't reply. She was shocked, yes, but she wasn't quite sure why. The thought of it didn't disgust or repulse her; it was simply so unexpected. Landa was a minefield of revelations, never failing to stun her with his words or actions. The thought of this elegant, womanising man finding solace in the arms of another male intrigued her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. Landa called out to the visitor in German and a few moments later Hermann entered the room. He saluted smartly to Landa and bowed politely towards Shosanna. The conversed for a few moments before Landa stood and indicated to Shosanna that it was time to go.

Shosanna sat in the back of the car whilst Landa sat in the front, talking mainly to Hermann. Shosanna felt strangely detached from him now, exacerbated by the unfamiliar German buzzing around her ears. She almost felt grateful for the slight soreness she felt down below, a reminder of the night they had spent together. But that had been the night, now it was the day and Landa was once again in Colonel-Mode.

It wasn't long before they drew up outside the cinema. Hermann turned off the engine and turned to look out of the window, presumably to allow Landa to say a passionate goodbye to his young lover if he wished. Shosanna remembered Hermann doing this that first night; he was indeed a man who understood the meaning of discretion. Shosanna could tell from Landa's demeanour that there was to be no tender goodbye's so she stepped out of the car and faced his open window.

"Can I see you again soon?" she asked in a bare whisper.

Landa smiled.

"If you wish," he replied, a sarcastic smile on his face. It was obvious that the sight of her almost begging for him again amused him immensely.

"Tomorrow?" she asked, trying not to sound pleading.

Landa's smile softened slightly.

"I'll try," he said, "tomorrow's a busy day but I'll see what I can do."

Landa leaned his hand out of the window, took hers in his own and gave it a quick squeeze. His final, tender touch seemed to almost vibrate on her skin as she watched his car speed away.

* * *

Across the square, Dieter Hellstrom sat dumbstruck, unable to quite comprehend the scene he had just witnessed. He had arrived at the cinema unnecessarily early yet again and had been immediately alerted to the fact that all was not well. In the space of one hour the Negro man had come out of the front door at least a dozen times, looking up and down the street, the anxiety on his face clear through Hellstrom's binoculars. Hellstrom had drawn the only logical conclusion; Emmanuelle Mimieux was not at home and her absence was causing some sort of distress. Perhaps Hellstrom had finally caught the pair at whatever Landa suspected they were doing. Perhaps Mademoiselle Mimieux was out committing some sort of act that would interest Landa and the Negro was awaiting her return.

The answer, when it came, was totally unexpected.

Hellstrom had watched dumbfounded as Landa's car had drawn up outside the cinema and Emmanuelle Mimieux had climbed. Although he could not hear what they said or see clearly what they were doing, the simpering expression on her face as Landa drove away spoke volumes.

Hellstrom sat in the car, quietly seething. So this was his important mission? Spying on Landa's whore! Presumably Landa simply wanted someone to keep watch in case she had other men visiting. Hellstrom knew Landa was a hedonistic and self-centred man, but he couldn't help but feel hurt by his actions. Of all the officers at his disposal, Landa had chosen one that he knew hankered after him desperately. How bitterly ironic, using one of his casual lovers to spy on another.

Hellstrom sat in the car, pondering what to do. His gut reaction was to follow Landa immediately to Headquarters and let him know what he had found out. But what would be the benefit of that? Like all cunning and calculating people, Hellstrom never revealed a useful titbit of information unless the gain to himself was obvious. He hesitated for only a moment longer before getting decisively out of the car and walking over to the cinema. Even as he approached the steps, the sound of raised voices could be heard. As quietly as he dared, Hellstrom crept up the stairs to the front door and listened with all his might.

"You bitch."

"Marcel, please, just listen..." Shosanna protested but his anger was too fierce.

"You bitch," he repeated with cold fury. "Not sure what time you were going to get home? Well you might have warned me it would be all fucking night!"

"Marcel, listen..."

"Have you any idea," Marcel continued, "how worried I've been? I thought he might have hurt you or raped you. Did he force himself on you? Or did you fuck him willingly?"

Shosanna looked away, wanting to lie to save his feelings but finding it too hard. Marcel's face took on an expression of grim satisfaction.

"Oh I see," he sneered, "I should have guessed. Didn't take him long to get you into bed did it?"

Shosanna was nearly in tears. "Please Marcel," she choked, "you promised to understand."

"Understand," Marcel echoed in a hollow voice. He looked Shosanna straight in the eyes, his face etched with pain and sadness.

"I love you," he said, "but if you want to go around fucking the Nazi's then I'm not so sure you love me."

"I do!" cried out Shosanna, "I do love you so much! Landa doesn't mean anything, he has no idea about you. I love you more than anything."

Marcel walked slowly towards the kitchen door.

"I think," he said carefully, "it's about time you sat down and really thought about those words. I'm not sure you realise yourself how much you've fallen for him."

With a firm slam, he left the lobby and Shosanna to the knowledge that he was right.

* * *

Hellstrom could hardly breathe with excitement as he moved as quickly as possible down the steps and retreated to his car. He sat panting in the front seat, his mind churning over everything he had learnt in those last valuable few minutes. So Landa was sleeping with this girl, but more importantly, she was apparently in love with this Negro and Landa had no idea!

Hellstrom knew he was going to have to play these cards very, very carefully. He looked at his watch. 8.37Am. Landa would be expecting him to remain here on duty for the rest of the day and well into the evening. Well what was the point now that he had information Landa would no doubt find extremely interesting?

With a triumphant grin Hellstrom turned the keys in the ignition and swung his car into the direction of SS Headquarters.


	9. Chapter 9

_Welcome to Part 9 of The Emerald Lady._

_After completing chapter 8 I decided that chapter 9 would be used to start allowing Dieter Hellstrom a little more involvement in the story. I was delighted when comments and reviews I received suggested the same, so here we have chapter 9 and a little more focus on Hellstrom._

_As ever your comments and reviews mean a lot so please take the time to leave a review if possible._

_All characters are copyright of their creator Quentin Tarantino._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Dieter Hellstrom drove quickly, determined to act on his instincts before he changed his mind. Right from the beginning of this investigation he had been looking for an opportunity to deliver Landa information that he would find interesting. He had no doubt that Landa would be extremely grateful when he learned of Emmanuelle and Marcel's secret relationship.

Hellstrom wondered how Landa was going to react. He was treading on risky territory if he wanted Landa to know that he also knew about his relationship with Mademoiselle Mimieux. Hellstrom felt a huge surge of dislike rising in his chest as the silly woman entered his mind. Nasty little slut, thinking she could do what she wanted and get away with it. Hellstrom had still not forgotten the way she had sneered at him when he had accosted her in the street. Perhaps she would be regretting her lack of respect when she finally realised that he had a lot more power than she had first realised.

But ultimately, Hellstrom didn't care about Emmanuelle Mimieux. All he cared about was Landa and how he would respond to him after delivering this news. Hellstrom knew that when it came to Landa, he was constantly in the submissive position. He wanted to please him and impress him and was willing to do whatever it took to get his attention. From a professional point of view this was a wise strategy and Hellstrom knew he was certainly not the only officer who went out of their way to impress Hans Landa. But of course, privately, Hellstrom had his more personal reasons for wanting to get noticed by Landa.

Now he thought back, Hellstrom wasn't even quite sure how it had first began. From the moment he had met Hans Landa he had been overwhelmingly impressed and in awe of the man. Landa was so perfect at his job and was blessed with an authoritative presence and stunning physical appearance that made him all the more magnetic. Hellstrom had admired and idolised him but it was only natural; what officer would not choose to model themselves on Standartenführer Landa?

Hellstrom was not sure at what point his feelings had evolved from admiration to attraction but he had somehow found himself in a position where all he could think about was Landa. He had tried to keep his private crush a secret but Landa had seemed to detect it the instant it had developed. Hellstrom sometimes had the awkward feeling that Landa could read his mind, as if knowing his most private thoughts was as simple as looking straight into his brain. Landa had changed towards him very soon after Hellstrom had first developed his attraction, suddenly becoming more teasingly and knowing, as if toying with his suspicions about Dieter's newfound feelings.

Hellstrom had certainly had sexual experiences with other men in his life, but they had been nothing in comparison with the first time Landa had touched him. That first night was now a blur, the consequence of a function at SS Headquarters where alcohol had flowed and Landa had invited Hellstrom back to his townhouse under the innocent guise of enjoying a further drink. With dogged obedience Hellstrom had done exactly as he was told, silently praying his secret fantasies were about to be realised. He had never been more thankful in his life when the evening had ended more perfectly than he could have imagined, with Landa seductively sweet-talking him into bed where they spent most of the night having passionate sex.

Hellstrom had quickly learnt where he stood in Landa's life. Landa liked him for sex but their closeness was to be no more than that. Hellstrom knew it was foolish to ever hope that Landa could hold any affection for him, but the idea was still a secret desire of his. If he wanted further attention from Landa, it was to be in the form of physical passion and nothing else.

That was how their relationship had continued from that point up until the present day. Occasionally, when Landa was in the mood, he would teasingly suggest to Hellstrom that they should have a relaxed talk over a glass of whiskey after work. Hellstrom would be left dizzy with excitement by these words, knowing exactly what hidden message underpinned the words. He was never left disappointed, with any invite to Landa's townhouse for drinks ending in him being brutally fucked on Landa's bed.

As pleasurable as Landa's company might be, Hellstrom was often very aware of the situation he allowed himself to be in. He knew that Landa used him for nothing more than sex and that he permitted this by giving Landa access to his body whenever he wanted it. But Hellstrom was happy to allow this because of the mutual benefit it provided. He was a deeply ambitious man and was prepared to do anything to stay in Landa's favour, even if it meant serving as his personal whore. But he also knew that Landa was an addiction. He was a man so charismatic and so dangerous and yet able to provide the most intense pleasure that Hellstrom had ever experienced. This intoxicating mixture meant that he was forever willing to do whatever it took to impress Landa and consequently earn himself another night in his bed as a reward.

Hellstrom pulled up outside SS Headquarters and glanced up at the window that he knew to be Landa's. He felt nervous as he suspected Landa was not going to be happy when he found out this new piece of information. Hellstrom knew that Landa was an arrogant man and no doubt that knowledge that his mistress was secretly sleeping with her Negro employee would anger him greatly. Hellstrom wondered what he would do to the girl and the Negro man. Well, what of it? That was their concern. All Hellstrom was interested in was the benefit he stood to gain for his dutiful loyalty.

* * *

Landa had just started to get absorbed in the report he was writing when a knock came on his office door. He called for the visitor to enter and a young office assistant came in timidly.

"Sturmbannführer Dieter Hellstrom to see you, Standartenführer."

Landa's pen poised in midair and he frowned. This was an odd time for Hellstrom to call; he was supposed to be on duty at the cinema. He knew Hellstrom well enough to know that he wouldn't ignore orders, so therefore he could only be here on an important matter. He told the assistant to show Hellstrom in.

Landa eyed Hellstrom suspiciously when he entered the room. The Sturmbannführer definitely had something to tell him, his face a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Landa smiled to himself; Hellstrom was ever so much fun when he was in his eager to please mood. The sight of this young, arrogantly self-assured man turning into a jabbering fool as he tried to frantically make a good impression was deeply amusing. Landa gestured towards the chair in front of his desk and sat back to enjoy the spectacle.

"Well this is unexpected, Sturmbannführer," Landa said casually, "not on cinema duty today?"

Hellstrom flushed slightly.

"Under the circumstances, Standartenführer, I thought it was best to come and speak to you now," he replied.

Landa raised his eyebrows in expectation; this was beginning to sound interesting. Hellstrom opened his mouth to continue speaking but hesitated and closed it again. He shifted in his seat before focusing all his attention on removing his gloves. Landa's sadistic pleasure was growing. He had watched enough people in his life to recognise Hellstrom's body language. The boy was uneasy, unsure as to how he was going to begin. Landa continued to stare at him unblinkingly, ensuring that the atmosphere was made no easier.

"I was at the cinema this morning," Hellstrom began, before coming to a feeble stop.

A few moment of uncomfortable silence followed before Landa spoke.

"You came all this way just to tell me that?" he said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Hellstrom gave a tiny scowl in response.

"I mean, Standartenführer," he continued pointedly, "I was at the cinema early. Very early. Before I was supposed to be on duty."

Landa was about to respond with more sarcasm when a warning sound went off in his brain. He suddenly realised where Hellstrom must be going with this. Landa remained calm, smiling neutrally at Hellstrom, but the sudden realisation must have shown in his face for a moment. Hellstrom was now looking more confident and smug, clearly pleased at having caught Landa off guard for a moment. Landa's face darkened and his body tensed in preparation as he looked squarely into Hellstrom's face. The boy was playing a very dangerous game indeed if he was intending to pry into Landa's private affairs. But Landa felt no fear from Hellstrom; if anyone was going to win this little stand-off it would be him.

"Well it can never be said you don't exceed expectations when it comes to your duties, Dieter," Landa said evenly.

Hellstrom's whole body glowed warmly with the familiar use of his first name but he refused to let Landa's tricks throw his train of thought.

"I saw something interesting this morning," Hellstrom continued.

"Really?" Landa said with exaggerated interest, "I'm fascinated, Dieter. Please tell me what you saw."

"I saw Emmanuelle Mimieux," Hellstrom continued, his voice growing louder as he suddenly found the confidence to do what he came here to do. "I saw her arrive home early in a car. With you."

Silence reigned in the office as the two men looked each other in the eye, one flushed and slightly breathless under the strain and the other shrewd and calculating with eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Both seemed to be mentally assessing where they stood in this game and what moves were best to use next.

"And so what if you did see this, Dieter?" Landa asked calmly.

"Is this why I'm on duty at the cinema?" Hellstrom asked sullenly, "keeping watch over your mistress?"

Landa almost laughed out loud. Hellstrom, dear sweet Dieter Hellstrom, was so utterly stupid at times! Always mixing his personal feelings with attempts at being clever and tactical. And this was why Landa knew he would always win when it came to Dieter. Landa possessed the upper hand as he could always ruthlessly sweep aside weak human feelings and deal solely with the cold facts.

"I don't think my relationship with Emmanuelle Mimieux is anything to do with you, Dieter," Landa said coldly.

Hellstrom didn't reply but continued to look resentfully at Landa, the unmistakeable trace of hurt in his eyes. Landa certainly felt no sympathy for Hellstrom; the boy was acting like a silly child. But remembering how beneficial it was to have Hellstrom worshipping his every move, Landa decided a slight change of tactic might be wise.

"I don't know why this is worrying you, Dieter," Landa said with slightly more warmth in his voice, "the girl's nothing more than a whore. Return to duty please and don't let her bother you anymore."

Landa gave Hellstrom a final condescending smile and picked up his pen to return to work, clearly indicating that the meeting was over. Hellstrom was reminded once again how Landa treated him like a child, appeasing him with flippant words of comfort that were hollow and meaningless. Hellstrom braced himself as he prepared to finally reveal his trump card.

"You do know, Standartenführer, that she's also sleeping with the Negro?"

Landa froze as the words hit him; he felt as if someone has just slapped him in the face. He slammed his pen down once again and looked at Hellstrom in suspicious anger. Hellstrom retreated slightly in fear of Landa's temper but held his nerve and refused to look away.

"What exactly do you mean by that, Sturmbannführer?" Landa asked with icy disdain.

Despite his fear, Hellstrom could not help but feel secretly ecstatic at having completely toppled Landa's calm authority.

"I mean exactly what I said, Standartenführer," Hellstrom said as calmly as he could. "I overheard them talking after you left this morning. Apparently they are in love with each other, although her relationship with you is, of course, causing some friction."

Landa suddenly wanted nothing more than to throw Hellstrom out if his office. He felt vulnerable and unnerved, Hellstrom sitting in front of him when he was unsure of what to do or say next. Landa was always so confident in his actions; to be unexpectedly faced with new information was uncomfortable.

"Would you mind waiting outside for a moment, Sturmbannführer?" Landa said curtly, making it clear that the request was in fact an order.

Hellstrom looked momentarily as if he was going to argue but clearly thought better of it and exited the office. Landa close the door firmly behind him and walked slowly over to the window. He looked out at the scenery, not focussing on anything in particular but allowing his senses to become absorbed as he thought.

Landa was angry. How dare she? Did she think it was funny to try and make a fool of him? She would certainly regret this piece of foolishness if she did. He felt slightly angry towards Hellstrom but that emotion was subsiding rapidly. Landa couldn't help but mentally acknowledge the boy's cleverness, cunningly making conversation about his affair with Emmanuelle before revealing his true motives. Landa smiled. Hellstrom really was a delight in every way, whether he was being needy and clingy or actually exercising that impressive brain of his. Landa's admiration of the little display he had been witness to this morning was only deepened as his lust began to throb gently. He must take advantage of everything Hellstrom had to offer more often.

How Landa felt about Emmanuelle was slightly more complicated. He was angry with her; anyone who tried to do things outside of his control would always be met with anger. But Landa couldn't help but allow his anger to diminish slightly as he remembered how she had looked earlier that morning. So pretty and delicate, strangely shy and vulnerable and yet so animalistic beneath the innocent facade. Landa knew he didn't love Emmanuelle in the slightest but it was difficult to be too angry with such an intriguing and enticing young woman.

No, there was only really one person who was about to bear the full brunt of Landa's anger.

Marcel.

Landa's face contorted with fury as he contemplated the man. To think he had dared to lay a finger on the girl that Landa now considered as belonging to him. Landa's anger only deepened as he remembered that morning he had visited the cinema and the obvious resentment the Negro had expressed at his presence. Well he was certainly going to regret that now. He was determined to make him pay for being Emmanuelle's lover; when Landa wanted something he would have it and he didn't care who in his path needed to be eliminated.

Landa felt much calmer now and more in control. There was nothing like a few moments of cool logic in the recesses of his mind to straighten out the facts and allow him to regain his control on the situation. As with any good plan the foundations had to be laid down firmly first. And the first step in his plan was to ensure that Dieter's complete loyalty remained intact.

Landa walked over to the office door, opened it and gestured to Hellstrom to come inside. Hellstrom returned to his seat, looking curiously at Landa's face and trying to read his expression. He was almost slightly disappointed that Landa had now resumed his usual calm and cool demeanour; it had been a rare treat to see him lose control. Hellstrom sat but Landa did not; instead he stood in front of his desk, directly in front of Hellstrom. Hellstrom shifted nervously at Landa's unexpected proximity, feeling vulnerable as he stood looking down on him.

"Dieter," Landa said, "I must say you really have been clever today."

Hellstrom didn't react, unsure as to whether this was genuine praise or the beginning of trouble. Landa's face was contorting into that gloriously seductive grin. Hellstrom could feel his stomach tightening with desire as he looked up at him.

"Very clever indeed to find out such valuable information," Landa continued playfully, aware of the effect he was having on Hellstrom, "and you know that I like to reward those that serve me well."

Very gently Landa placed one finger on Hellstrom's cheek, caressing it very softly with the very tip. Hellstrom gave a tiny moan of want and closed his eyes in order to enjoy the touch he had been denied for so long. Landa watched him with predator eyes as he ran his finger gently over his lips before sliding down and resting on his tie. He playfully pulled at the knot, knowing all too well what this little hint was doing to the young man in front of him. Hellstrom moaned with even more desperation now, wanting so much to feel the full wonderful force of Landa's hands. Seeing that his actions had worked, Landa withdrew his hand, watching Hellstrom's pleading eyes open and silently beg for more.

"This situation must be dealt with, Dieter," Landa continued softy, the tiniest trace of menace in his voice, "can I assume I still have you complete loyalty and support?"

It wasn't even a question that needed answering. Like a loyal pet Hellstrom nodded vigorously, willing to agree to anything if it meant feeling that touch again. Landa smiled at him indulgently; it hadn't taken long to regain control of his favourite Sturmbannführer.

"Dieter," he whispered seductively as he allowed Hellstrom to enjoy one more caress to his cheek. Landa would have his fun with Dieter Hellstrom, before turning his attentions to dealing with Marcel.


	10. Chapter 10

_Welcome to Part 10 of The Emerald Lady._

_To think at one point I was going to give up on this after chapter 1, and now it is 10 chapters with more to come! All that is solely down to all you wonderful readers who have encouraged me with your lovely reviews. I would never have continued this without you. Please keep them coming, they mean everything to me._

_So not much else for me to say about this chapter, except please enjoy!_

_All characters are copyright of their creator Quentin Tarantino._

_WARNING! Some sexual content in the beginning of this chapter._

* * *

Hellstrom was on all fours, gripping onto the bed sheets and gasping as he felt Landa thrusting into him from behind. He had wanted this for so long and now it was finally happening again he was almost delirious with ecstasy. His gasps turned to moans of pleasure when he felt Landa's hand slide down and grip his very hard cock before starting to stroke it slowly in time with their movements. Hellstrom began to move his own hips backwards in order to meet Landa's body and push him in deeper, every penetration making him groan and sigh.

Landa was in his element as he looked down at the naked body in front of him which contorted and shook every time he pounded himself into it. He couldn't take his eyes off Dieter's back which was arching up towards him in pleasure. Such a long, slim expanse of perfect pale skin, glistening very slightly with a sheen of sweat. Landa couldn't resist him and leaned down over Dieter in order to kiss and lick the skin between his shoulder blades, tasting the delicate saltiness of the moisture. Hellstrom leaned his own head back in response, allowing Landa to do the same to his shoulder and neck. Hellstrom's moans became even louder as he soaked up every kiss and lick that was being bestowed on his hot skin.

Landa held onto Hellstrom's hip with his one free hand and began to force himself in and out with even more strength. He'd forgotten how truly glorious a creature Dieter was to fuck. His body was so perfect and beautiful, like a statue carved out of porcelain. He was so incredibly tight and responded ecstatically to anything Landa did to him. Landa could feel himself starting to get lost in a cloud of pleasure and all coherent thought left him so he could only focus on the reactions of the man in front of him and that wonderful tightness that was gripping his cock.

Landa knew he couldn't hold on much longer and continued to thrust with all his might. Beneath him Dieter was beginning to moan with increased urgency, the wincing of his body suggesting that Landa's force was starting to hurt his tender flesh. The sight sent Landa over the edge and with a heavy gasp of his own he came deep inside Dieter's body. A strangled cry told Landa that Dieter had also just climaxed and he firmly held onto his hard cock as he felt it jerking in response.

Hellstrom's arms buckled and he lay awkwardly on his side, panting with exertion as his body glowed with orgasm. Landa gently withdrew himself and lay next to him, still idly stroking the hot cock that was now slowly softening in his hand. They both lay still together, absorbed in the shared afterglow of their passion, the room hot and stuffy from their very physical efforts.

Landa looked again at Hellstrom's back which was now heaving very slowly as his breathing began to steady and return to normal. It never failed to fascinate Landa how powerful sex was in completely taking over a person. All rules of normality and reason seemed to disappear when the body was engaged in sexual pleasure. Landa knew this was one of the reasons he enjoyed sex so much; it allowed him to exert such extreme control over another person. Hellstrom was so intelligent, confident and adept at his job and yet when in the throes of sexual ecstasy he was nothing more than a bundle of emotion and reaction. Landa smiled vaguely to himself and allowed his hand to sweep gently one last time over Hellstrom's hot skin before he climbed off the bed and stood up.

Hellstrom shifted onto his back when he felt Landa move, the familiar feeling of disappointment growing in his stomach in acknowledgement that their union was over. He watched Landa as he walked out of the bedroom door and into the adjoining bathroom where he started to clean himself up. Hellstrom could have happily stayed there forever, staring blatantly as that stunning naked body. How long would it be until he would experience this again?

Landa returned to room, patting himself briskly with a towel. He smiled pointedly at Hellstrom.

"Time to start work I think, Sturmbannführer," he said pleasantly.

Hellstrom sighed as he obediently got up and made his own way to the bathroom, wishing he could remain in the bedroom to watch Landa dressing. It was so rare that he got to see Landa in a state of undress that he wanted desperately to savour the moment, memorising the sight that would fuel his fantasies until the next time the Standartenführer required his services. Reluctantly, Hellstrom retreated to the bathroom where he hurriedly washed his hot, sweaty skin. Despite the speed of his actions, Landa was almost completely dressed by the time he returned, buttoning up his jacket with a knowing smirk on his face, obviously aware of Hellstrom's disappointment. Hellstrom himself dressed quickly, wincing slightly as he realised how sore the flesh between his legs actually was. Landa had been rough with him today but he never minded; the chance to have Landa's hands on his needy body was worth any amount of later discomfort.

They left Landa's townhouse in the staff car driven by Hermann. Hellstrom often wondered how much Hermann knew about Landa's private life. The man was surely not stupid enough not to realise who amongst Landa's house guests were lovers. Hellstrom often wondered if Hermann had any inkling of the sort of things he and Landa did together, or whether he innocently thought him as no more than another of the Standartenführer's colleagues. Hellstrom thought it was probably best he never knew what Hermann privately thought of him or the situation.

"Now, Dieter," Landa said, "you remember what we discussed? You know exactly what I need you to do?"

"Ja, Standartenführer."

"Good," Landa replied. "I'll go into the cinema and keep Mademoiselle Mimieux occupied whilst you do what I said."

"What will you do, Standartenführer?" Hellstrom asked before he could stop himself.

Landa raised his eyebrows with a look of amused disbelief.

"I'm sure I'll think of something to keep the young Mademoiselle entertained," Landa said with gleeful malice.

Hellstrom wished he had never asked and flushed deeply as jealousy began to stab him painfully in the stomach.

* * *

Shosanna stood in front of her mirror, wishing her chest would stop fluttering nervously. Landa had promised to try and see her today. She knew he was busy, but she suspected he would make every effort to get away from his work for her. She was anxious and jittery. Landa seemed to have completely infiltrated her mind and body. She was obsessed with him.

Shosanna never bothered to wear her nice clothes during the day as this was when she did all the household chores. But today was an exception; she couldn't have Hans seeing her in filthy work clothes! She was wearing one of her black skirts, slightly tighter and shorter than she would normally have chosen. She looked at herself from all angles, checking that it complimented her body rather than emphasised her bad features. She had found a brand new pair of black stockings in her drawer and had slid them on very carefully to ensure they did not get ripped like all her others. Shosanna wondered idly if Landa was aroused by stockings; most men seemed to find them attractive. She blushed and felt herself growing hot in acknowledgement of hoping circumstances that afternoon would allow him to discover the pretty underwear she had chosen especially for him.

Shosanna had chosen a white blouse to wear with her skirt. She normally hated white as she was self conscious of her body being too visible under the sheer fabric. But today the colour suddenly seemed attractive to her. She tucked it into the top of her skirt to emphasise her slim and shapely waist, easily the part of her body she liked the most. Shosanna unbuttoned the top button of the blouse and examined herself carefully. Was that too provocative? She wanted to look attractive but didn't want to look cheap with too much cleavage on display. She decided to be cautious in case Hans did not appreciate her flaunting herself too much for him.

Shosanna looked at the time. Normally she was dressed and ready in minutes but this morning was taking a long time. She applied a second coat of red lipstick, smoothed her hair around her face and stepped back for a final look. Shosanna turned slowly to look at herself carefully. She was satisfied; if Hans came she looked and felt her best.

Shosanna was still looking at her own reflection admiringly when Marcel passed by the open door. He had begun sleeping in a different room and was no longer using their bedroom. He stared open mouthed at her, not quite believing the spectacle before him.

"So you really are playing the whore for him, aren't you?" he asked nastily.

Shosanna scowled.

"Why do you think everything is about him?" she snapped angrily, "am I not allowed to look nice if I want?"

"You'd never dress up nicely for me," Marcel said bitterly.

"And that's because you wouldn't even notice if I did," Shosanna replied icily.

No, I..."

Shosanna turned to face Marcel full-on with such ferocity that his sentence stuck in his throat. Her vision seemed to be blurring and her entire body buzzed white hot with fury. It was as if all the confusion, frustration and guilt she had been feeling was now ready to explode.

"You don't understand any of this do you?" Shosanna said, so angry her voice was shaking. "I know you love me, Marcel, but everything we do is so dull! We don't appreciate each other and never do anything exciting. I know Hans is an evil bastard, but he makes me feel alive! He's exciting and tells me I'm beautiful and..."

"Are you in love with him?" Marcel interrupted, his face stunned with pain and shock.

Shosanna hesitated.

"No," she said after a moment of thought, "I love you. But I can't pretend that I don't feel something for him as well."

The hurt in Marcel's eyes was almost too much for Shosanna to bear. She watched with tremendous sadness as he turned and walked away, not even wanting to react to what she had said. Shosanna felt guilt like she had never experienced, but she couldn't lie to Marcel anymore. Their life was boring and dull, safe and repetitive. When she was with Landa, Shosanna felt more vivacious and animated than she had ever done before. It was probably mainly to do with sex, but this was one element Shosanna knew she could never discuss with Marcel. Telling him how wonderful Landa's lovemaking was would do irreversible damage.

Shosanna didn't see Marcel for the rest of the morning. She could hear him upstairs, pacing around and occasionally stopping for periods of time, presumably sitting down and thinking. Shosanna got on with the day's chores and didn't disturb him. She knew she had hurt him badly but there was nothing she could do or say to change the situation. She could of course have lied and told him Hans meant nothing, but the situation had advanced too far. Marcel could see in her eyes that the infatuation was strong and Shosanna knew that to hide it further would be impossible.

It wasn't until lunchtime that Shosanna heard Marcel descend the stairs. Bracing herself for another argument, Shosanna abandoned the bowl of soup she had been toying with and walked cautiously into the lobby. The sight that greeted her made her spirits sink.

Marcel was standing at the bottom of the stairs, two small cases sitting at his feet. He was wearing his coat and his face was heavy with resigned sadness. Marcel followed Shosanna's gaze as she looked at his luggage, realising what he was doing. Marcel looked back at her and shrugged vaguely.

"This is for the best," he said softly.

Shosanna shook her head.

"Please Marcel," she pleaded, "just give me a chance to get these feelings out of my system and we'll start again."

Marcel gave a gentle smile.

"You mean sit at home and wait until you get bored of sleeping with that animal?" he asked.

Shosanna didn't reply. Marcel shook him head firmly.

"You know I would do anything for you," he said quietly, "but this is too much. Don't stand there and ask me to sit quietly whilst you sleep with another man."

Shosanna rushed forward and tried to take his hands but he brushed her away.

"Please," she said again in a desperate tone, "I think I'm just confused. Just give me some time and this will all go away."

"No, Shosanna," Marcel said wearily, "it won't go away. You need him. I don't know why but I can't stay here whilst you do."

Shosanna's eyes filled with tears. Marcel had to look away; he could never bear seeing anybody cry, it upset him too much. With a final half-hearted smile he picked up his cases and walked out of the front doors, not looking behind him. Shosanna watched him leave, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen and suppressing a sob. Now she really was all alone, like she had been all those years ago after fleeing that farmhouse. Once again, she had unwittingly made the decision to abandon her loved ones and be alone. Shosanna walked slowly back into the kitchen, wondering what was wrong with her and why she seemed to feel the need to push those away who loved her.

* * *

Marcel had barely left the cinema premises when he was forced to sit down on a nearby wall. He was shaking badly and finding it hard to walk calmly and coherently whilst in this state. He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, breathing deeply and closing his eyes in an effort to stop his pounding heart. The hard lump in his throat had subsided now, along with the aching burn of tears that had been threatening to spill. It had been hard enough walking away from Shosanna without tears complicating the situation.

Marcel reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one and inhaling deeply. He wasn't a particularly big smoker, but at this moment he craved nothing more than the calming effect of a cigarette. He smoked slowly, enjoying the relaxing sensation until it was time to throw away the stub. He sat still, thinking over what had just happened.

What hurt more than anything was not knowing what he had done wrong. Marcel had always been devoted to Shosanna, looking after her and loving her more than anybody he had ever met. They had argued at times of course, but he had never knowingly hurt or mistreated her. What had she said? Their life was boring, dull and repetitive. Well he couldn't help that! Everybody's life was dull and repetitive because that was what everyday life was like. Marcel felt that at least if he could understand what mistake he had made, the situation he found himself in now would be easier to bear.

Marcel sighed sadly to himself as he contemplated what to do. The cinema had been his home for even longer than it had been Shosanna's and now he was at a loss as to where he should go. He wondered what she was doing now, if she was sad that he was gone or looking forward to seeing Landa. Marcel's blood boiled with uncontrollable hatred as Landa came into his mind. That evil, malicious bastard. Not content with having killed Shosanna's family he was now destroying their relationship as well. Marcel had no idea how but somehow he would get even with Landa over this. Shosanna seemed to have long since abandoned her plans to get rid of the Colonel; Marcel wondered if maybe he should use his time to plan how to do it himself now that he had such a grudge to bear.

Marcel got off the wall and picked up his cases. Hunting down Landa would be much more difficult in reality; the man was an officer and no doubt had plenty of minions around him to protect him. Marcel shook his head as he mentally abandoned the highly ambitious idea and began to walk slowly down the road. He didn't see two men, one in SS uniform and the other in Gestapo, exiting a car and beginning to walk decisively across the square.

* * *

Shosanna felt dazed as she sat at the kitchen table. She had no idea what to think or feel. She should have lied to Marcel and not told him the truth about her feelings. But these feelings were so strong it was becoming impossible to pretend they didn't exist. Maybe she had hoped he would understand and give her his blessing to discover more about this newfound side of herself? Despite the fact that she was alone, Shosanna laughed audibly at this. She could never be naive enough to actually believe Marcel would have accepted the situation.

Shosanna was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't hear or see the figure that had crept silently across the lobby and was now standing in the kitchen door watching her.

"So deep in thought, Emmanuelle?"

Shosanna jumped violently and almost screamed in shock. She leapt up from her seat and turned to see Landa standing in the doorway. He was smiling as usual, a particularly wide and wicked grin. He leaned back nonchalantly against the wall and raised his eyebrows in playful anticipation.

Shosanna knew the irony of the situation was perverse but at this moment all she wanted was the warmth and comfort of another person. She marched directly over to Landa and flung her arms around his shoulders, kissing him more deeply and desperately than she had ever done. He matched her passion, opening his mouth and thrusting his tongue into hers as if he couldn't consume her quick enough. They kissed each other with frenzied lust, Shosanna moaning against him as she felt his hands begin to slide up her skirt. Marcel was right; this addiction she was in the throes of was too powerful at the moment to ignore.

* * *

Marcel was mentally calculating how much money he had and whether it would be enough to get a room at one of the local taverns when a sharp tap on his shoulder distracted him. He turned round only for his blood to freeze as he saw a young Gestapo officer facing him, smiling cheerfully, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm.

"Going somewhere?" he said.

"What?" Marcel asked in confusion.

The officer's smile deepened in a way that made Marcel's skin crawl.

"Sorry," he said lightly, "let me rephrase that. I meant to say you _were_ going somewhere."

Marcel was completely lost but knew something was wrong.

"I don't understand what you're saying to me," he said, making a monumental effort to sound polite.

The young officer's face changed once again, this time the fiery excitement in his eyes fading and being replaced with one of cold disdain.

"Then let me rephrase once again," he said, his voice now soft and deadly, "you are under arrest."

Blind panic seized Marcel.

"You can't!" he protested, "I haven't done anything! What are you arresting me for?"

The Gestapo officer did an exaggerated expression of thoughtfulness, giving Marcel the distinct impression that he was plucking a charge randomly out of nowhere.

"I could have you arrested for anything I wanted," he said gleefully, "but I think being arrested under suspicion for harbouring Jews sounds appropriate."

With surprising strength, the officer gripped Marcel's arm in a vice-like hold and began marching him towards a car where two other men in Gestapo uniform were waiting.

Marcel was beside himself with fear as he was forced into the back of the car. Was this officer making it up? Was he really under suspicion of harbouring Jews? Marcel felt physically sick as an even worse thought hit him. No, surely this man could not possibly know about Shosanna?


	11. Chapter 11

_Welcome to Part 11 on my fanfiction._

_My sincerest apologies to my lovely regular readers for the slow update. The last month has been full of some various personal problems and a slight health issue. My mind was so preoccupied that my creativity just crashed and disappeared! But I'm very happy to have got back on track and indulge my love of writing._

_So I hope you have all stuck with me patiently and that you enjoy this new chapter. And please review as always._

_All characters are copyright of their creator Quentin Tarantino._

_Warning! Some adult sexual content._

* * *

Marcel's entire body seemed to be frozen rigid as he sat in the back of the car, the young Gestapo officer sitting uncomfortably close beside him. Even breathing seemed to be a struggle. Hs head was swimming with confusion; did this man really know about Shosanna or was it just a horribly unfortunate misunderstanding? Stay calm, stay calm, he repeated over and over to himself. If he did not panic and acted cautiously, maybe he could talk his way out of this situation. Marcel didn't dare look to his left and make eye contact with the Gestapo officer, but he had already obtained the strong impression that this man was going to be a formidable opponent. There was something about his icy clear eyes and wide smile that made Marcel's stomach burn with dread. This man certainly did not appear to be the type who would respond with pity or kindness.

Marcel wondered if Shosanna had witnessed the arrest. He had not been far away from the cinema entrance; maybe she had been looking out of the window in order to see where he was going? Perhaps she would be able to contact someone who could help him? No, that was idiotic, Marcel reminded himself. Shosanna could not possibly risk exposing herself any further to the Nazi's. What if she tried to help him and ended up getting in trouble herself? Marcel's hopes dipped even lower as he pictured his beloved Shosanna being dragged away by Nazi's as equally cold and inhuman as this one.

Please God, Marcel prayed silently, let her be alright. Let her be safe and don't let her risk anything for me. Protect her from any fear and worry and keep her safe.

* * *

The dead feeling inside Shosanna began to thaw as Landa's mouth and hands worked against her body. The irony of the situation was distasteful, but Shosanna needed to feel him at this moment. He made her feel so wanted and desirable; she was desperate to experience that sensation again.

Landa's hands crept further up her skirt and found the tops of her stockings. He gave an appreciative sigh against her mouth as he slipped one finger inside the lacy top and playful twanged it against her leg.

"You gorgeous, wonderful little girl," he whispered, hands groping at her even harder as he showered her face and neck with kisses.

Shosanna wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gently pushed him down, forcing his mouth away from her neck and down into her breasts. Landa responded to the unspoken request and buried his face into the neckline of her blouse, kissing and gently nibbling at the soft breasts that rose above her underwear. Shosanna gasped and ran her fingers through his hair, gripping so tightly that she knew it must be hurting him. Landa did not even flinch as he continued to work his way over her chest.

Landa's body was burning with excitement; Emmanuelle was in a state of desperate lust he had not yet seen in her. The girl was almost begging him to take her and her raw need was fuelling his arousal with exceptional power. He carefully moved his hand away from her stockings and gently slid one finger into her underwear, inserting it firmly into her warm, wet opening. Her cry of ecstasy was startling and she clawed at his hair and shoulders with even more wild strength. Landa could feel his breathing growing heavier, the responsiveness of the young woman almost overwhelming him. He was so hard he knew he would not be able to last much longer without burying himself inside her.

Landa smiled to himself as he revelled in this joyous situation; the girl was in such need of him and urging him to satisfy her as quickly as possible. He began to tear away at the buttons on her blouse, wondering if they would even make it to the bedroom in time. Emmanuelle seemed to share his thought, grabbing his hand and almost dragging him to the stairs before they completely lost control of their lust.

* * *

Hellstrom stood outside the interrogation room, mentally preparing himself for the confrontation that awaited him. He felt confident and strangely excited; he was back in the work that he enjoyed the most. Although Hellstrom was an exceptional officer in everything he did, it was suspect interrogation where he really excelled. Unlike others, Hellstrom never had to raise his voice or resort to violence and aggression to get what he wanted. He was blessed with endless patience and the ability to retain his calm facade for as long as it took.

Hellstrom looked discreetly through the small glass window in the door to see the condition of his victim. Marcel was sitting at the table, his eyes distant and glazed in an obvious haze of confusion. His hands were clenched tightly together and the fingers fidgeted constantly. He looked up a number of times at various points in the surrounding walls, as if hoping a miraculous door or window would appear which would allow him to walk free.

Hellstrom smiled. This one was going to be easy! He was clearly already in a state of agitation and they hadn't even started yet. Hellstrom reached into his pocket and removed his cigarettes, lighting one and inhaling deeply. He always made sure he had plenty of cigarettes during an interrogation. He found them a highly useful prop in creating the intimidating atmosphere which a successful interrogation needed. They were also instrumental in giving him vital thinking time for those rare occasions when he met an opponent who proved a challenge to crack. Hellstrom knew privately he had borrowed this little trick from Landa, whose methods he admired more than any other officer he had witnessed. Watching Landa interrogating a man was almost arousing to Hellstrom as it exemplified the power and charisma that made Landa so utterly irresistible.

Hellstrom continued to watch Marcel whilst he mentally assessed what was the best route to take. Landa had been firm in his orders; the Negro was not to be harmed or hurt in anyway, just sufficiently set up with a false charge in order to keep him out of the way. Hellstrom had already decided that harbouring Jews was an easy charge to work with. It was serious enough to keep Marcel locked up and Hellstrom could delay him being sent to a camp on the basis of gathering more evidence. Hellstrom wasn't actually too concerned what any other Gestapo staff thought. He was trusted to do exactly what he wanted and no one ever questioned him.

Saving the final puffs of his cigarette for a suitably dramatic entrance, Hellstrom opened the door of the interrogation room. Marcel jumped, looking up to meet the eyes of the Gestapo officer in the doorway. His eyes were like ice as he walked calmly forward, finishing the final inhale of a cigarette before stubbing it out hard into the ashtray on the table. Marcel looked at the crumpled, smouldering little stub and his fear deepened. Whatever would be said or done, he knew he would not be leaving this room as a free man.

Hellstrom sat down opposite Marcel, crossing his legs neatly and smiling widely at him. The sight of the officer smiling made Marcel feel ill, the cruel twisted pleasure in his face more evident than ever.

"Well now," Hellstrom said, "how shall we begin?"

Marcel didn't answer. He had already decided that it was best to say nothing until forced to answer a question, and even then to say as little as possible. The less he said, the less his own words could be used against him. He had heard rumours in the past about the methods used by the Gestapo and was silently praying that they were untrue. Marcel was not a coward who would plead with this arrogant little bastard of an officer, but the idea of physical torture was one of his deepest fears. He hoped desperately the questioning would not reach that point; as much as he wanted to believe he could be brave and not waver under physical pain, the thought of it happening was truly terrifying.

Hellstrom had taken out another cigarette and was rolling it lightly between his fingers, as if debating whether to light it.

"So," he said quietly, "we have two options. You can admit your guilt to me now and this will all be over immediately. Or we can sit here until I persuade you to admit your guilt."

Hellstrom lit the cigarette slowly, his eyes never leaving Marcel's fearful ones. He blew out the smoke with a long, slow breath. The silence in the room was unbearable.

"And trust me," Hellstrom said with another tiny smile, "I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

* * *

Shosanna pulled Landa through the doorway into the bedroom, still kissing him frantically and clawing away at his body. Landa sighed with relief and pleasure as they made their way over to the bed, he prizing the groping hands away and pushing her down onto it. He had managed to remove her blouse on the way up the stairs and it had been discarded somewhere on their way to the bedroom. Landa looked down at Emmanuelle, the desperation in her eyes even stronger than before. Landa placed his hands of her bare stomach and watched her body flinch at his touch. Generally he preferred nothing more than prolonged pleasure, sometimes spending hours enjoying every possible pleasure his partner's body had to offer before succumbing to a blissful climax. But on other occasions, Landa was like every other man and could be entirely overcome with the aching need to satisfy his desires. Today was not the day for prolonging the enjoyment; they both needed immediate satisfaction.

As quickly as his hands would allow, Landa pulled off Emmanuelle's skirt, pausing for barely a second to cast an appreciative glance at the lacy stockings she had adorned especially for him. He continued to tear away at her underwear, needing more than anything to relieve the throbbing hardness at his groin.

Landa stopped briefly when Emmanuelle was finally naked, allowing his eyes to roam over her perfect pale skin. He was indeed a very privileged man to have such a beautiful and delicate young thing in his arms. He ran his fingers gently over her breasts and stomach before sliding them once again between her legs. Landa sighed gently as he caressed her wet flesh. He had experienced many women in his life but this girl was so raw in her need, hiding so many deep and carnal desires beneath her innocent appearance. There was something about her that set Landa on fire. Knowing that the Negro man had already experienced what he was about to enjoy made Landa only more quietly satisfied at having ordered Hellstrom to take the man away. When it came to sex, Landa possessed a greed when it came to the people he wanted. He kept Hellstrom at a constant distance but expected the boy to pleasure him whenever he desired it. And now he had found Emmanuelle and was loath to allow another man to experience the wonders of her body.

Landa looked down at Emmanuelle. She smiled gently before parting her legs, inviting him to take her and relieve both their urges. Landa was almost awestruck as he quickly unbuttoned his clothing and removed his uniform. He was insatiable when it came to this girl; he didn't think it would ever be possible for him to have enough of her.

Without any further hesitation, Landa moved forward and pushed himself deep inside Emmanuelle. They both moaned in unison with the relief at finally experiencing that desperately needed penetration.

* * *

Marcel was watching Hellstrom cautiously, considering how best to approach the man. He certainly didn't look like a reasonable person who would sit patiently and listen to Marcel's protestations of innocence. The expectant expression on his face at present was reinforcing the message he had already made abundantly clear; admit guilt or expect to suffer. But Marcel knew he could not allow himself to be forced into admitting anything. Agreeing to the officer's claims about harbouring Jews would almost certainly expose Shosanna.

"Please", Marcel said carefully, "I think there's been a terrible mistake. I haven't done anything. Please believe me."

Hellstrom smiled and leaned back comfortably in his chair.

"I'm sorry but that really was not the answer I was looking for," he said in an overly friendly tone.

Marcel could feel desperation growing in his stomach. How could he protect himself and Shosanna at the same time?

"We both know the situation," Hellstrom continued, "just agree to the accusations we have against you and everything will be so much easier for both of us. To not co-operate would be a highly foolish thing to do."

"And what will happen to me if I co-operate with you?" asked Marcel.

Hellstrom felt a glow of satisfaction inside. Progress was already being made and he had barely exerted any effort at all.

"Not much," Hellstrom replied casually, "just imprisonment. A much better option considering what will happen if you don't co-operate."

The fear was gripping Marcel once again as the thinly disguised threat resonated in his head. He was being left with very few choices. Either agree to whatever this man said or be forced into it through physical pain. Either way, Marcel knew this officer would see him locked up, however long it took.

"And of course so far we've only talked about what will happen to you," Hellstrom said, his eyes glinting maliciously. He leaned forward, wanting to watch Marcel's expression when he slapped him in the face with his next piece of knowledge.

"I would hate to think about what would happen to your pretty blonde girlfriend if you did not co-operate with me," Hellstrom whispered with biting malice.

Marcel's body burned as the desire to punch the young officer in the face became overwhelming. How could he possibly know about their relationship? He must have been spying on them; there was no other logical explanation. Marcel forced himself to try and not show his reaction, merely meeting the other man's eyes which were now alight with sadistic pleasure. The odds were slowly stacking against him; the depth of this man's knowledge was as dangerous as Marcel had feared.

"Standartenführer Landa tells me your young lady certainly knows how pleasure a man," Hellstrom continued, "perhaps I should pay her a visit myself, see if what I've been told really is true."

Marcel felt as if he was going to be sick, the idea of this disgusting little man laying a hand on Shosanna. He was unsure how much more of this he could take.

Hellstrom gave a high pitched little laugh that set Marcel's teeth on edge.

"But of course I'm being rather selfish," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. "I'm sure there are plenty of other officers who'd like to find out if Landa's whore really is as good as he claims. I'm sure we could arrange for her to do a little entertaining for us some time. I'll certainly pass on my regards to her once I've had my turn."

"Ok, ok, enough," Marcel said, his voice trembling, "you've made your point. Leave her alone. Don't any of you dare lay a finger on her."

Hellstrom laughed yet again as he stubbed out his neglected cigarette. He had known it would only take the correctly worded threats to get the man's full co-operation. This had been so pathetically easy it was almost a waste of Hellstrom's considerable talent.

"You're hardly in the position to make threats, my friend," Hellstrom replied, "especially when your blonde slut is already servicing one my colleagues as we speak."

Marcel winced at the thought. He knew the man was only trying to break his mentality even more. The thought of Shosanna with Landa only moments after he had left their home was just absurd.

* * *

Shosanna gasped and moaned as Landa pounded himself in and out of her, his powerful hands holding her hips down firmly. She placed her own hands on the back of his neck and grasped his hot, sweaty skin tightly as he fucked her mercilessly.

Landa tipped Emmanuelle's hips upwards and pushed her legs back towards her chest, allowing himself to penetrate her even deeper. He closed his eyes and focussed all his efforts on the glorious sensation of her warm flesh gripping around his cock. He was so aroused and extremely hard, knowing that she was in an equal state of need. He began to move even faster and harder, his skin burning as he heard her gasping appreciatively from beneath him. He wanted this to last forever, to lie here enjoying the pleasures of this beautiful body. But Landa was also beginning to feel the first throbs of orgasm starting to grow in his stomach and the desire to bring himself to climax was equally overwhelming.

Lying flat on her back, Shosanna braced herself as she felt her own climax beginning to grow. She had felt Landa's body stiffen slightly and noticed the increased urgency in his thrusting. They had only had sex a few times but Shosanna had already begun to learn about the Colonel's body and recognised the signs that he was nearing completion. She ran her fingers into his hair and pulled him slightly closer, pressing her bare breasts into his strong chest.

It was enough to push them both over the edge and Shosanna cried out as that familiar throbbing engulfed her entire body. With a final forceful push, Landa slumped against her with a groan and she felt him come deep inside.

Landa lay himself down on top of her, not moving as his body began to calm. Shosanna wrapped her arms around his back and held him tightly, feeling his heart pounding against her chest. He was still inside her and Shosanna focussed on that warm feeling, a wave of satisfaction washing over her mind and body. She had never felt like this about sex. She had never wanted and needed it so desperately before or craved a man's body so much. Never once had she ever been made aware of what intense reactions sex could provoke.

The feeling inside altered as Landa withdrew and rolled onto his back, his body shining with sweat and his face looking exhausted but satisfied. Shosanna's stomach tingled as she felt the slight soreness he had left between her legs, a pleasurable reminder of his presence. How could she possibly cure her addiction to this man who was so dangerous and yet intoxicating?

* * *

"What do you want me to do?" Marcel asked wearily, now willing to agree to anything that would protect Shosanna.

Hellstrom gave a vague shrug.

"It's very simple," he said, "sign this confession and that's all I need."

Hellstrom thrust a piece of paper in front of Marcel and pointed at the empty bottom line which was waiting for a signature. Marcel noticed that the line which asked for the date was blank. He wondered idly if the officer had a stake of pre-written confessions, waiting to be signed and dated by suspects.

"And if I sign this," Marcel asked, "what will you do."

Hellstrom clicked his tongue impatiently.

"I've already told you," he replied, "by signing this I have the power to imprison you. And I will keep you in prison rather than a camp for the time being due to your sensible co-operation."

"And will you leave the matter at that?" Marcel asked desperately. "If I sign you won't start looking for evidence?"

Hellstrom opened his mouth but shut it again quickly. What was the man talking about? Confident he had successfully covered up his moment of confusion, Hellstrom continued carefully.

"Why are you concerned about evidence?" Hellstrom asked as casually as possible.

Marcel picked up the pen and brandished it at Hellstrom.

"Please, let this be a deal," he said. "I'll confess to whatever you want on the condition you don't dig anymore. You can imprison me but please don't punish anyone else."

Hellstrom lit yet another cigarette to give himself a few seconds to calm the excitement he could feel inside. Was he hearing this correctly? Had he brought this man here in order to frame him on a false charge, only for him to confess to a real one? The irony of the situation was almost too good to be true.

"Are you saying," Hellstrom said slowly, to ensure he had not misheard, "that you'll sign a confession admitting you harboured Jews, on the condition I do not seek out and punish the Jews in question?"

"Yes," replied Marcel, "and why not? You've got what you wanted. A signed confession and another man imprisoned. Please do this one thing for me in return for my co-operation."

Hellstrom flashed Marcel one of his extremely rare natural smiles.

"You have a deal," he said.

Marcel was slightly taken aback; he had attempted this negotiation out of desperation. He had never actually expected the officer to respond. But it was the only way he could think to protect Shosanna. The officer knew he was hiding a Jew. He must have been spying on them as he knew about their relationship. If he could just prevent the officer from arresting Shosanna, at least something could be salvaged from this mess.

Marcel signed the confession and Hellstrom swept it up into his hands triumphantly. Marcel watched despairingly, his eyes focussed on the single sheet of paper which now sealed his fate. Hellstrom began to make his way to the door before turning around suddenly.

"So tell me," he said, "how many Jews exactly have you been harbouring?"

Marcel didn't answer. Hellstrom stared at him intently, wondering if the pieces of information that were slowly fusing together in his mind really were leading him to the only logical answer.

"Let me guess," continued Hellstrom, determined to get the facts right before getting too excited about the revelation that had just hit him. "You are harbouring just the one Jew, yes? A female. And someone you care about very much."

Marcel's eyes filled with tears. Hellstrom did not feel any sympathy for the man. More fool him for risking his life over some stupid woman!

"Emmanuelle Mimieux," Hellstrom said, with utter joy in his voice at having uncovered such a powerful piece of knowledge.

The pain Marcel felt was unbearable. He had tried to protect Shosanna and all it seemed to have done was to expose her even more. Their fate lay solely in this man's hands.

With a final cheerful nod of the head, Hellstrom left the room. He couldn't even bring himself to fully react. Today was turning into one of the best days of his life.


	12. Chapter 12

_Welcome to Part 12 of The Emerald Lady._

_When I published chapter 11 I mentioned briefly that my writing ability and creative thought had suffered recently due to a few personal problems. I was most touched when nearly everyone who reviewed the chapter gave some form of acknowledgement or kind wishes regarding this situation. Thankyou so much to you all, it is most comforting to receive such kind words. Just for anyone who was concerned or interested, my circumstances are getting better everyday and this slight sticky patch is resolving nicely. The fact that I am once again writing with great enthusiasm is testimony to this!_

_As always, thankyou so much for your reviews, nothing makes me happier than to read your feedback. Please keep the comments coming._

_So to return to chapter 12 - the past few chapters have been quite eventful so its now time to slow down a little and enjoy these characters. I enjoy writing dramatic and exciting happenings but equally love to pause and just linger of these characters and their situation. I sincerely hope you all like these slower and more reflective chapters as well._

_All characters are the copyright of their creator Quentin Tarantino._

_WARNING! Some sexual content._

_Enjoy._

* * *

Emmanuelle had fallen asleep on her side, facing away from Landa. The bed covers were ruffled around her feet, exposing her body to Landa who lay beside her. He was gently running his finger along the length of her body, starting at her shoulder and ending at her buttock, enjoying the contours of her womanly shape.

Landa had never been too fussy about body shape or looks in his female lovers, but he found this particular body extremely appealing. Emmanuelle was slim and slender, her limbs lean and soft. Her body nipped in at the waist before moving out again into the full curve of her hips, creating the feminine silhouette that Landa always found most appealing. Her buttocks were surprisingly curvaceous for a woman of her build, unusually round and firm for such a slender body.

Very gently, Landa pushed down on Emmanuelle's hip in order to manoeuvre her onto her back. He sighed contentedly as his eyes roamed over her body and looked at her skin. Emmanuelle had beautiful skin; smooth and pale with barely a mark or blemish upon it. Her skin was perfect and exquisite and Landa once again ran his fingertips gently over her, enjoying the silky sensation. He ran his fingers gently over one breast, keeping his touch light so as not to disturb her. Her breasts were perhaps slightly smaller than he usually preferred, but the firm youthfulness in them more than made up for it.

Landa focussed on Emmanuelle's sleeping face, struck suddenly by how peaceful and relaxed she looked. He was once again unnerved by the swell of affection that glowed gently in his stomach. He rarely felt much affection or emotion towards his conquests, and when it did occur he found the experience slightly unsettling. Landa had often wondered why he was able to enjoy sex and sexual pleasure so much whilst love and romance had eluded him his entire life. He suspected it was something to do with his career which required the very purposeful detachment of actions and feelings. Landa had learnt early on that in order to excel in the SS, all emotional reactions and responses to his actions had to be suppressed. He remembered very clearly as a young soldier killing a man for the first time, sending a bullet through the head of a suspect who was about to attack a senior officer. He had received a pat on the back and considerable praise for his swift and efficient actions. But Landa had found himself shaken and emotionally unprepared for the consequences of taking another man's life. A period of soul-searching and questioning had taught him that a man who wished to climb the military ladder needed to put aside all feeling if he was to carry out necessary actions.

Landa had become an expert at this, fulfilling all his duties perfectly and never once again experiencing that sick, shaky feeling which had hit him in the days after killing that first man. He now suspected this frame of mind had infiltrated into his private life, allowing him to enjoy the pleasures of another person's body whilst rarely feeling any emotional attachment towards them.

There were rare exceptions to this trend. Landa has sometimes felt the occasional tenderness towards Hellstrom, despite the fact that the boy's main function was purely to provide sex. There was sometimes something about his needy eyes and desperate expression that pricked Landa's heart and persuaded him to shower some tenderness on him, as opposed to simply physical pleasure. And now that same feeling was clouding his relationship with Emmanuelle.

She was so young, much younger than his other lovers. Landa had found more in recent years that he had begun to attract women who were younger than him. It seemed that many women appreciated a lover with some considerable experience and Landa had enjoyed the pleasures of a number of women younger than himself. But Emmanuelle was far younger than the women he usually slept with. Landa was once again hit by the strong paternal glow he had felt for her once before, a reminder of that deep and most private fantasy the existed in the recesses of his mind.

Suddenly aroused, Landa gently slipped his fingers between Emmanuelle's legs, stroking the folds of delicate flesh. She was still extremely wet and sticky, her skin drenched with the mixed fluids of their sex. Landa was sorely tempted to pull her legs apart and taste the intoxicating mixture that lay there waiting. This temptation was beginning to outweigh the pleasure of watching her sleep, and Landa's stroking became more determined.

Emmanuelle stirred, sighing softly and moving her legs slightly apart to give him better access. Her blonde hair was spread out of the pillow, glowing in the sunlight that streamed through the window, giving her an angelic appearance. Her sweet prettiness aroused Landa even more, the innocence tarnished with the knowledge of what carnal sex she was capable of.

"You're irresistible," Landa whispered as he parted her thighs and moved downwards.

Shosanna has only just completely awoken before the first long, wet lick made her sink back into the pillow with a moan of joy. Landa moved with such exquisite care and tenderness, every motion seemingly geared towards giving her pleasure. What struck Shosanna was that he seemed to get just as much enjoyment from giving her pleasure as she did from receiving it. She had always assumed men only did things like this to their women as they felt obliged to give them some enjoyment. She clearly had a lot to learn about sex and Landa was proving to be a very adept teacher.

Despite the wonderful feeling of Landa's tongue against her most intimate self, Shosanna was feeling the urge to have him once again. She leaned down and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to indicate what she wanted. Landa looked up in surprise, the sight of his lips glistening with her moisture making Shosanna tingle with excitement.

"I want you again," she said, smiling lazily down at him.

"Again?" Landa said with a slight laugh.

"Please," she said in a low and seductive voice.

Landa found her impossible to resist. He slowly moved up and lay on top of her, sliding himself inside her as he moved into position. They both sighed in unison at the pleasure and relief of being united once again. Landa was tired and Emmanuelle was clearly in an equally lethargic mood, her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders and her body unmoving beneath him. Their two bodies were worn out and exhausted, drained of all energy from their previous energetic encounters.

Landa moved gently with minimum effort, revelling in the relaxed warmth of such lazy lovemaking. How rare to find a woman that was happy just to lie peacefully with him and enjoy the sensation of him being inside her. Emmanuelle seemed to feed effortlessly off his presence, her pleasure fuelled by the simple touch and proximity of his body. Landa gave her neck a playful nibble and she squealed in response, the gentle brush of his teeth tickling her flesh. The touch of her neck reminded Landa of that strange, wondrous night when she had stayed at his townhouse, when his animalistic side had taken over and he had hurt her with harsh slaps to the face. Landa was a man of varied and complicated sexual tastes, aroused by both violent and gentle lovemaking. The tenderness that existed between them at this moment suggested that Emmanuelle was an equally deep and complex person.

The reminder of that passionate night spurred Landa into action and he started to thrust harder, Emmanuelle groaning every time his tip hit her deep inside. Landa didn't even attempt to make the experience last for longer; he craved nothing more than release. With a heavy sigh he came, Emmanuelle gripping him tightly around the neck as he throbbed inside her.

When the pulsing sensation had passed, Landa withdrew, wincing very slightly as he realised he was feeling slightly sore. Even for someone of his voracious sexual appetite, today had been quite a strenuous day. He grinned privately to himself as he realised he had experienced both of his current favourite lovers in the space of a single day. He was a lucky man to be surrounded by such willing bodies.

Shosanna wrapped her arm around Landa's waist and buried her face into his bare chest. His skin was hot and slightly damp with sweat, the very fine smattering of hair rubbing against her cheek. His body smelt of the musky aroma of masculinity, mingled with the slight fragrance of some sort of soap or toiletry. More than ever, Shosanna felt the need to cling to Landa at this moment. Despite the warmth of bodily satisfaction, the dull ache of sadness and loneliness still resided within. Marcel was gone. He has left her and now she had no one. He had left her because of Landa and because he could not understand the confused emotions she needed to work through. To push Landa away when she was at her most lonely and vulnerable would be exceedingly foolish.

"Hans?" Shosanna asked suddenly, an impulsive thought coming in her head, "would you stay here with me for a few days?"

Landa looked at baffled. The question had clearly taken him completely by surprise.

"I am on constant duty, Emmanuelle," Landa said, "I have to be at my townhouse. Of course I cannot stay here."

Shosanna sat up, wrapping the covers over her chest.

"Then let me stay with you, just for a few days," she said.

Landa surveyed her curiously through narrowed eyes.

"What about the cinema? What about your work?" he asked.

Shosanna dismissed this with a wave of her hand.

"Please Hans," she said, more desperately this time. "The cinema doesn't matter. I just need to be with you for a few days."

Landa smirked.

"Perhaps not a very prudent decision with Reichsminister Goebbels coming up," he said.

Shosanna balked at this comment. In all the extraordinary events of the last few weeks she had totally forgotten about the film premiere. The premiere was what had started all this in the first place! Could it really have only been such a short time ago that she had found herself feeling physically sick at the sight of Hans Landa as he chatted away over that piece of strudel? It had happened so recently, and yet now Landa was sharing her bed. Shosanna wrapped the blanket tighter around her naked body, suddenly more acutely aware than ever that she was now the lover of a Nazi Colonel. But this was not the time to think about that.

"It really won't matter, for a few days," she said.

Landa shifted onto his side in order to look at her properly, keen to see what reaction his next comment would provoke.

"What about your employee?" Landa asked slyly, "could he not take over for a few days?"

If she was made uncomfortable by the mention of Marcel, she hid it well.

"He's gone away," she replied instantly, "his mother is ill. He'll be gone for quite a while."

Landa resisted the urge to laugh out loud. The ease with which lies tripped of this girl's tongue was quite remarkable. She hadn't even blinked whilst saying that pile of nonsense.

"Oh dear," Landa said with mock concern, "I do hope he will be back soon."

Clearly keen to move away from the delicate topic of Marcel, Shosanna gave Landa the most endearing look she could muster.

"Please, Hans?" she pleaded quietly.

Landa rested his head back onto the pillow in order to think for a moment. As much as he enjoyed sharing the bed of an attractive woman, he was also a man who highly valued his privacy and space. Landa knew he was slightly selfish at heart; his townhouse was his place for solitude and reflection and he had never liked the idea of another person occupying it with him. He had allowed plenty of individuals to spend the night there so that they could enjoy a pleasurable night of sex, but no one had stayed with him for a prolonged period. Landa studied Emmanuelle's pleading face, her need evident and hard to resist. Surely a few days would be tolerable? It could even prove to be entertaining.

"You may stay with me for a few days, Emmanuelle," Landa said slowly, "but on a few conditions."

Shosanna nodded eagerly, clearly ready to agree to any rules she was presented with.

"I have a very busy and important job," Landa continued solemnly, "therefore, in my house you must agree to do exactly what I say. If I need you to go out, to stay out of sight whilst I handle visitors or even return here if I need you completely out of my way, you must agree and promise not to argue."

Shosanna nodded again in enthusiastic agreement, her unwavering obedience stirring something in Landa's stomach. She was like a little girl, dutifully agreeing to the rules of her father.

* * *

They both got up shortly, washing and dressing before preparing to leave. Shosanna had quietly peaked at Landa through the crack of the open bathroom door, voraciously consuming his naked body with her eyes as he quickly sloshed warm water over his clammy skin. Ever the alert detective, Landa had spied her shadow against the wall instantly and continued washing with feigned unawareness, gaining immense pleasure from flaunting his body for her. Once they were both dressed, Landa had stood in the bedroom patiently whilst Shosanna hastily packed a small bag with some essential items. She did not pack much, only some basic items of clothing and her make-up. Landa pursued her wardrobe with interest as she roughly folded some daytime blouses.

"Bring a nice dress, Emmanuelle," Landa said, "just in case we have time for a proper dinner."

Shosanna flushed with pleasure. Landa was so sophisticated and exciting.

"You choose one," she said.

Landa raised his eyebrows and gestured towards his own chest.

"Me?" he asked with exaggerated surprise.

Shosanna laughed and nodded encouragingly.

Landa stepped forward and began moving his fingers through the clothes. Emmanuelle clearly did not have a great deal of money; most of her clothes were basic and some looked worn and old. Her eveningwear was certainly severely limited. Landa did not mind; he already had in mind the item he was looking for.

"It has to be this one," he said as he swept her emerald green cocktail dress from the back of the wardrobe.

Shosanna smiled wistfully at the dress, remembering the nervous and scared girl who had put on that dress before undertaking her first date with Hans Landa. The girl she had been that night seemed further away than ever.

"You know how much I love you in emerald," Landa said smoothly as he folded the dress carefully and placed it in the top of her bag.

Once they were both ready, they left the cinema, Landa waiting whilst Shosanna locked the front doors. She was relieved to get away; the place had been fraught with so much tension and hatred recently that some temporary escape was a relief.

Shosanna descended the front steps with Landa, surprised to see Hermann waiting with the car. She wondered if Landa had brought Hermann with him and made the driver wait outside until he was ready. Shosanna felt embarrassed to think about it, the idea of Hermann waiting patiently outside, fully aware to the obvious fact that his superior was having sex inside the building.

Landa held the back door open for Shosanna before climbing into the front. He had spoken to Hermann earlier that morning and arranged for him to collect him outside the cinema. Landa had arrived in the square earlier with Dieter Hellstrom, but that vehicle had been used during the arrest of Marcel. Landa wondered how Hellstrom was getting on with Marcel. If anyone could force a false confession out of an innocent man, it was Dieter.

"Mademoiselle Mimieux is staying with me for a few days, Hermann," Landa said, addressing the driver, "so there's no need to drive her home again."

Hermann gave his usual non-committal nod, devoid of any reaction or opinion of this information. Shosanna was curious as to what the driver truly thought. Despite his impassive persona he was still a man with a brain and heart. She wondered what he thought of Landa and, more importantly, what he thought of her. Shosanna felt her spirits dampen as a little voice inside her head told her exactly what Hermann probably thought of her. Undoubtedly he regarded her as nothing more that the Colonel's whore, servicing his needs upon request. Shosanna shook off this thought. It didn't matter what Hermann thought; her life was complicated enough without being concerned about a manservant.

It wasn't long before they were sitting outside Landa's house, Hermann exiting the car swiftly in order to open the door for Shosanna and politely take her bag. She thanked him which was received with a stiff little nod. Landa unlocked the door and all three stepped inside the house.

Shosanna had only seen the house once, but she was shocked to realise how little she remembered of it. Perhaps her anxiety at being in Landa's home that night had clouded her ability to acknowledge the detail of the house.

"Where would you like this, Standartenführer?" asked Hermann, gesturing towards Shosanna's bag.

Shosanna felt herself cringing, waiting to see if Landa would order the manservant to place her belongings in his bedroom.

"The spare room, Hermann," Landa said lightly, "the one at the top of the stairs."

Hermann nodded curtly and immediately ascended the staircase. Landa waited until he was out of earshot before moving closer to Shosanna and smiling suggestively.

"Of course, I sincerely hope you don't choose to actually sleep in that room," Landa murmured smoothly under his breath.

Shosanna laughed.

"No, I have a feeling I'd prefer to sleep somewhere else," she replied coyly, surprising herself with her blatant flirtatious behaviour.

Landa grinned widely, the gleam of arousal burning in his eyes once again. He looked as if he were just about to kiss her before Hermann reappeared.

"That will be all, Hermann," Landa said efficiently. "Tomorrow morning at 8am, danke."

Ja, Standartenführer."

Auf Wiedersehen, Hermann."

When they were alone, Landa gently took Shosanna's hand and led her into the sitting room. She sank comfortably into the sofa whilst Landa prepared them both drinks. She sighed contentedly. For the first time that day she was feeling relaxed and happy.

"I hope you don't mind, Emmanuelle," Landa said as he sat beside her, casually clinking his glass against hers before drinking, "but I'd like you to wear your emerald dress tonight for dinner."

Shosanna raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You want me to dress up nicely for you, Hans?" she replied mischievously, enjoying Landa's appreciative smile.

"Well of course!" he said playfully, "but in actual fact I have a guest coming to dinner. We have a short piece of business to discuss but after that it would be delightful for the three of us to dine together."

Shosanna's glass froze in midair.

"Guest?" she inquired, a sudden nervousness gripping her body.

"Yes, a guest," Landa continued cheerfully, "I'm sure you'll recognise him when you see him. He was present when you met Reichsminister Goebbels. We're having Sturmbannführer Dieter Hellstrom as our dinner guest."


	13. Chapter 13

_Well it's been quite a while since the last update!_

_To those of you that still wait for an update and take an interest in my work, I do apologise for the prolonged delay between parts. A combination of real life events and other writing projects took priority over this story._

_But that's not to say I will ever abandon this fiction! I adore writing this story and am determined to keep going until the end! So never fear when there are update delays, I'll always be back!_

_As ever your reviews give e so much delight and pleasure, please take a moment to leave a comment if you wish._

_All characters are copyright of their creator Quentin Tarantino._

_Some sexual content in this chapter._

_Enjoy_

* * *

Landa hummed happily to himself as he dressed for dinner. He had removed his uniform and washed and shaved before putting on a clean shirt and dressing once again. He was at home and entirely at liberty to dress in casual civilian clothes, but Landa always felt it was appropriate to entertain guests in full uniform. Particularly the two guests he had at his table tonight.

Landa smiled at his own reflection in the mirror as he carefully combed his hair into place before dabbing a very light amount of cologne around his neck. He always liked the delicate smell of scent on skin but hated any cologne which was overpowering. Satisfied that he looked fresh, clean and presentable, Landa put on his jacket and began to carefully fasten the buttons. He was looking forward to tonight immensely. Not only having two guests at his dinner table, but two guests who just happened to be his current lovers. The anticipation bubbled inside Landa so potently that he nearly laughed out loud in his excitement. To sit at the head of the table, watching his lovers making polite conversation in his presence was such a fun little prospect. It was almost like a game, with Landa in charge and playfully toying with his guests in order to see how they reacted to his teasing. Landa suspected that Emmanuelle would handle the situation better than Dieter. Hellstrom was a magnificent officer when it came to his work but had a tendency to get uptight and tense when handling issues outside of office life.

Landa finished buttoning his jacket and admired himself from every angle, checking his clothing was perfect and his appearance pristine. What was most exciting about this evening, of course, was the thrill of being the only one in possession of all the facts and being able to watch the behaviour of his unsuspecting companions. Hellstrom knew he was having some sort of fling with Emmanuelle but had no idea that the girl had become so besotted with him. Emmanuelle barely even knew of Hellstrom's existence, let alone the secret services he made available to Landa in private.

With a final brush down of his uniform and a straightening of his cuffs, Landa turned off the bedroom light and preceded downstairs, his spirits very high. Tonight promised to be a lot of fun.

* * *

Shosanna sat on the bed in the spare bedroom, wondering if any excuse on earth could get her out of dinner. She hated the sight of Major Hellstrom. The way the man grinned at her and stared with that glint of knowingness made her very uncomfortable. Although she had been in a temper at the time, she now deeply regretted the way she had been so rude and shown him disrespect in the street. She had a horrible feeling that Major Hellstrom was the sort of man who would make a particularly unpleasant enemy. Shosanna made a mental note to keep calm in front on him; perhaps politeness and appealing to his better nature was a wise move.

Shosanna was also deeply unsettled by Landa's motives. Why had he arranged this strange dinner party? He had no idea that she had spoken to Hellstrom so why would he consider him to be an appropriate dinner companion?

She stood up from the bed and placed a lace wrap over her shoulders, looking at herself anxiously in the mirror as she straightened it into position. She had a strong feeling that there was something else going on, something she was not yet aware of. Landa's behaviour seemed so strange, so completely inappropriate to the situation.

A new fear gripped Shosanna tightly; maybe he had worked out her true identity and was summoning Hellstrom here in order to assist with her arrest? Shosanna shook off this thought nearly as quickly as it appeared. Hans would never do that.

She trusted him.

Shosanna paused to consider how strange those words sounded in her head. Landa was a Nazi, a Colonel who fulfilled his duties by ordering the deaths of innocent people, including her own family. And yet she knew deep inside, she trusted him and didn't honestly believe he would hurt her.

So much had happened in such a short space of time. She had given Landa her trust, her mind, her body. Her relationship with Marcel was all but destroyed because of her infatuation.

Shosanna slipped on her shoes and made her way to the door. Tonight was going to be difficult enough without trying to work her way through the mass of confusion in her mind.

* * *

Dieter Hellstrom quietly pulled up outside Landa's townhouse in his staff car. He smirked to himself in gleeful anticipation, knowing that a dinner invitation from Landa could only mean one thing. He had not anticipated a repeat performance of their passionate sex quite so soon; this was a most unexpected pleasure.

Hellstrom climbed silently out of the car, straightening his jacket and brushing down his clothing before knocking on the door, a heady mixture of nerves and excitement rushing through his veins.

Landa answered the door almost instantly and Hellstrom could see immediately from the wide grin on his face that he was in his element tonight. Hellstrom smiled privately to himself; tonight looked to be an extremely pleasurable evening.

"Dieter!" Landa exclaimed exuberantly, "how delightful to see you, and at such short notice."

Hellstrom had indeed been fairly perplexed by the lateness of Landa's dinner invitation, summoning him with barely a few hours notice.

"Thankyou very much for the invite, Standartenführer," said Dieter politely, "it is always a pleasure to dine with you."

Landa laughed at Hellstrom's forced formality and ushered him into the tidy sitting room where drinks were waiting.

"I have a little surprise for you tonight Dieter," Landa said as he poured Hellstrom a glass of champagne.

Hellstrom's hand paused in mid-air as he accepted the glass.

"A surprise?" he asked cautiously, wondering nervously if Landa had summoned him here for one of his bizarre little games.

Landa winked at him, his smile now bubbling with anticipation.

"I'd like you to meet my other dinner guest for the evening," he said casually, despite knowing the reaction this would provoke.

Hellstrom didn't answer as a crushing wave of disappointment and suspicion flooded his senses. What was Landa playing at?

Landa left the room and returned moments later with an extremely nervous looking young woman on his arm. The two guests locked eyes before a moment of silent but steely recognition passed between them.

"Dieter Hellstrom, please meet Emmanuelle Mimieux," Landa said formally, his eyes darting between the two of them curiously. "You met briefly at Reichsminister Goebbels coffee meeting, but that was a little while ago."

"Oh no, Standartenführer," Hellstrom said, his eyes burning with loathing as he met the hostile look of the woman in front of him, "I certainly remember Mademoiselle Mimieux."

Hellstrom stepped forward smartly, bowing his head briefly before taking Shosanna's hand. She barely resisted a shudder as she felt his cold hand grip hers, manoeuvring it towards his lips as he continued to fix her with that horrible, dead-eyed stare. Shosanna knew that Hellstrom disliked her; she hoped his hatred would stop him adorning her hand with a kiss, despite the watchful eyes of his superior.

Hellstrom's lips met Shosanna's hand, just as he discreetly moved to the side to block Landa's view. To Shosanna's horror, instead of avoiding the kiss altogether, Hellstrom opened his mouth very slightly, allowing his tongue to make wet contact with her hand as he gently kissed it. Shosanna knew she couldn't pull away in front of Landa so stood fixed as Hellstrom gave her a menacing smile. Shosanna was more nervous than before, the disgusting behaviour of this vile man making her deeply uncomfortable.

Hellstrom released Shosanna's hand and she whipped it back away from him, placing it behind her back in order to discreetly wipe away the damp traces of saliva he had left on her. If Landa had noticed the strange exchange between them, he had certainly not said anything.

"Mademoiselle Mimieux is staying with me for a few days, Dieter," Landa explained, provoking a further smirk from Hellstrom and a cringe from Shosanna.

"How terribly cosy," murmured Hellstrom, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Landa picked up the champagne bottle in order to refill glasses, starting to pour before realising it was empty.

"I'll let you two get to know each other whilst I restock on the refreshments," he said genially before disappearing, not seeing the look of panic that entered Shosanna's face.

Neither of them spoke immediately once Landa had left. Shosanna turned purposely to look at a nearby bookshelf, determined to avoid any conversation with Hellstrom if she could help it.

"So, it was you who claimed not to know Standartenführer Landa, wasn't it?" came the oily voice behind her.

Shosanna sighed. Hoping to not have to speak to Hellstrom was clearly not going to happen.

She turned around to face him, her stomach turning at the sight of his nasty, wide smile and piercing eyes.

"I think you're more than aware that was a lie," she replied curtly, "I don't tend to discuss my private life with strange men on the street."

Nor with the men in your private life, Hellstrom thought silently, wondering how she would react if he revealed that he knew she was a Jew. This was not the time; there was nothing to be gained from acting tonight. Might as well make the girl sweat a bit, in preparation for when he chose to unleash his knowledge.

"So are you two particularly close?" Hellstrom enquired.

"That's none of your business," snapped Shosanna, trying to keep her words quiet for fear of Landa returning and finding his guests rowing.

Hellstrom laughed.

"Just making your services available then?" he sneered nastily, "hoping to get an easy time from the Germans by acting like a whore?"

The pulsating, hot fury inside Shosanna was starting to burn her skin, threatening to spill out in dangerous torrents unless this situation was diffused. She knew she was supposed to stay calm in front of Hellstrom, but his vile words had touched a raw nerve. Her hands shook, itching with the desire to hit the smirking man taunting her.

"Why do you care so much about who your superior is sleeping with?" she hissed back angrily, "maybe a snivelling, grovelling creep like you wished it was you instead?"

Perhaps it was the unexpected accuracy of what Shosanna said that knocked Hellstrom's icy facade, his face briefly reacting to her words before he gained control again, his slightly burning cheeks being the only giveaway. The realisation hit Shosanna sharply in the stomach, her face contorting from confusion to anger and then disgust as she recoiled from Hellstrom. They stared at each other, she disbelieving and he breathing heavily in an attempt to remain cool in light of his most private secret tumbling unexpectedly into the conversation.

Shosanna was appalled as she surveyed Hellstrom. Not only was he a rude and horribly intimidating man, he was clearly some sort of sexual deviant, hankering after his superior like a lovesick girl. Shosanna's blood ran even colder as her memory buzzed with a recollection, the time Landa had boldly told her that he had had sexual relationships with both men and women. She was beginning to look at Hellstrom differently, curiously. Surely Landa had not laid his hands on this repulsive man?

The uncomfortable tension was broken as Landa re-entered the room, clutching two bottles of champagne and spouting profuse apologies for how long it had taken. Ever the astute detective, Landa instantly detected a change in the room's atmosphere. He noted Hellstrom's flushed face and Emmanuelle's startled expression, wondering excitedly what had caused friction to break out. Landa said nothing as he refilled everyone's glass, smirking as he saw both his guests gulping down the alcohol as quickly as manners would allow.

"Everyone enjoying themselves?" Landa asked sweetly.

The over eagerness of their enthusiastic responses spoke volumes.

* * *

Dinner had been an unexpectedly quiet affair. Normally Landa enjoyed these occasions immensely and used them to chat away incessantly to his guests. Landa knew he was a natural show-off and was secretly very proud of his effortless intelligence and wit. He knew he was a clever and charming man and enjoyed using these talents to their full when in the position of host. But tonight was too fascinating an evening to indulge in small talk. He had kept conversation to a minimum, watching his two guests surreptitiously, like a scientist maintaining constant observations over his specimens. Watching how each of them handled the unnaturally quiet meal was highly stimulating to Landa's detective instincts.

As he had fully expected, Emmanuelle had visibly coped better with the situation than Hellstrom. She appeared to have retreated back into that icy, cool facade that he had first encountered when they had shared coffee and strudel in the cafe. She nodded politely and smiled tightly in response when necessary, but otherwise did not react at all to the atmosphere. Hellstrom on the other hand clearly felt the discomfort more acutely, fiddling constantly with his cutlery and glancing continuously at Landa, silently pleading with him to ease the tension. Landa gained huge sadistic pleasure from this; Hellstrom thought he was such a calm and controlled person, but couldn't even cope with a slightly uncomfortable dinner party. How his many interrogation victims would laugh if they could see what a fidgety, awkward wreck he was tonight!

Despite the amusing tension of the dinner table, Landa was starting to get bored. As they retired to the sitting room for whiskey and cigarettes, Landa decided it was time to have a little fun.

"So tell me, Dieter," Landa said as he poured at least three measures of whiskey into Hellstrom's glass, "do you have a girlfriend at the moment?"

Hellstrom gulped down the burning liquid with alarming speed. How like Landa to come up with a wildly inappropriate and humiliating question.

"Nein," he replied quietly, studying the floor intently.

"Really Dieter, you should enjoy yourself more!" Landa exclaimed, "I thought all German officers had French girlfriends to keep them cosy at night!"

Hellstrom forced a smile in response. Shosanna blushed as she felt Landa's eyes move to her.

"Emmanuelle doesn't have a young man," Landa continued, malicious pleasure throbbing through his body, "why don't you pursue a pretty girl like her?"

Shosanna began to turn crimson with embarrassment, staring at her glass as she silently squirmed. Hellstrom didn't respond, still looking pointedly at the floor.

"Well?" pressed Landa, his eyes boring into Hellstrom so fiercely that Dieter visibly winced, "what do you think?"

"Good idea, Standartenführer" replied Hellstrom, his voice strangled and strained.

"Well why don't you try now then, Dieter?" Landa teased.

Shosanna turned to Landa; things were going too far.

"Hans, please," she whispered pleadingly, "stop it."

Landa ignored her.

"Well come on then, Dieter," Landa said, grinning in anticipation, "join us over here."

Landa leaned across Shosanna's lap and patted the empty seat next to her.

"Come here and sit next to Emmanuelle," Landa said, a gently threatening tone clear in his voice.

Hellstrom looked at Landa, his clear eyes widening in an appeal for the humiliation to stop. Shosanna sat rigid, unable to stop what was unravelling around her.

"Please, Standartenführer," said Hellstrom quietly, before Landa cut him off.

"Now!"

With extreme reluctance, Hellstrom rose from his seat and walked over to the sofa, sitting down next to Shosanna. The seat was small and they were uncomfortably close, Shosanna now able to hear Hellstrom's ragged, nervous breathing.

Landa sank back into his seat, and drank deeply from his glass. Toying with Hellstrom never ceased to be hugely entertaining.

"Well go on, Dieter," said Landa, "try out your best charms of the young Mademoiselle."

Despite his fear, Hellstrom seemed to have completely frozen, his face burning and his lips firmly clamped together. Shosanna was shocked to find that she actually felt quite sorry for him, Landa's cruel games entirely geared towards making him the victim.

Landa laughed.

"You'll have to excuse Dieter, Emmanuelle," Landa said, addressing Shosanna, "he's not very good with women."

Hellstrom looked at Landa with hurt reproach, shame etched painfully into his face. Landa gave no response.

"Perhaps you should follow the examples of more successful men," Landa said, suddenly grabbing Shosanna and kissing her forcefully on the lips.

Shosanna gasped in surprise at the sudden contact, her mouth opening slightly as Landa slid his tongue deep into her throat. He pressed against her mouth with such force that Shosanna was pushed back against Hellstrom, her back wedged against his side and their heads touching. She felt Hellstrom shifting to try and move away but there was precious little room on the sofa for any manoeuvre. Landa's hands ran fast over Shosanna's body; he opened one eye to make sure Hellstrom was watching as he forced his hand up her skirt and allowed it to rest between her legs.

With a violent shove, Shosanna forced Landa off her.

"I'm going to bed," she gasped, storming from the room, unable to take any more.

"Me too," Hellstrom said, much more quietly but also simmering with anger.

Landa laughed openly as both of them marched firmly upstairs, Shosanna slamming the bedroom door and Hellstrom shutting his as gently as possible, as if to echo how much he wished he had the nerve to slam it.

* * *

Hellstrom stood in front of the mirror, angrily brushing away hot tears that spilled down his cheeks. He was furious at himself for reacting like this. He was a soldier, an officer, and officers did not cry when they were upset.

He sat on the bed, his head thumping dully with the first aching of excessive alcohol. Landa had humiliated him and subjected him to his sadistic games many times before, but never in front of others. However embarrassed Hellstrom felt when he looked back at the past indignities he had been subjected to, his comfort was that it was only Landa who had witnessed them. The pain of being embarrassed in front of that brazen little French whore was almost too much to bear.

Hellstrom undressed quickly and threw himself miserably into bed, hoping the night would pass quickly and he could leave as early as possible.

* * *

"You were pretty horrible to him," Shosanna said as she watched Landa undress. In her annoyance she had completely forgotten to pretend to go to her own bedroom in front of Hellstrom. She was now sitting on Landa's bed, listlessly smoking a cigarette.

Landa looked over at her scornfully as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"A bit of womanly pity?" he asked teasingly.

Shosanna shrugged.

"I'm just saying that you were really horrible to him," she repeated, "he looked very upset."

"Slightly speaking out of place wouldn't you say, Emmanuelle?" said Landa irritably.

"I'm sharing your bed," Shosanna replied coldly, "I think that gives me a right to speak."

Landa shrugged and started to hang up his uniform. Perhaps he had gone a little too far. Dieter was terribly good fun to play with, but everybody had their breaking point.

Landa finished sorting his clothes and walked over to the bed, giving Shosanna a playful smile as he did. Despite her anger, she did not push him away as he sat down next to her and gently pushed her back so that they were lying down. He sighed contentedly as he snuggled his face into her hair, his hand gently stroking her stomach. Shosanna stroked his hand back; she wanted to stay angry with him, but found him too hard to resist. Upon seeing that she was responsive, Landa pressed himself closer, sighing heavier as his groin rubbed against her hip. The temptation to let him take her was strong but Shosanna had something more important on her mind.

"He seems quite smitten with you," she said, tensing slightly in anticipation of his reaction.

Landa propped himself up onto his elbow and looked at her in surprise.

"Who?" he asked.

Shosanna rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Who do you think?" she said impatiently.

Landa laughed easily and relaxed once again.

"A harmless crush," he said nonchalantly.

Shosanna shifted onto her side so that she could look at Landa properly.

"Don't lie to me, Hans," she said firmly, "what is going on between you and him?"

Landa narrowed his eyes and studied her as if trying to judge how much he should reveal. With a wide smile he decided to once again test her boundaries.

"Dieter gives me a lot of pleasure," Landa said slyly, "he has a very willing and obliging nature, if you understand my meaning."

Shosanna's body tensed. She knew this was going to be the answer she received, but hearing it confirmed from Landa's lips was still shocking.

"You fuck each other?" she asked, burning with curiosity.

"Does that shock you?" Landa asked.

Shosanna thought for a moment before answering.

"No," she said carefully, "it..."

She couldn't quite finish her sentence. The realisation that she found this revelation both intoxicating and arousing was an unsettling discovery.

Landa resumed his position, beginning to kiss her neck and allow his hands to wander over her body. Shosanna gave a little sigh of pleasure as his hand once again began to move up her leg, firmly squeezing her firm flesh before his fingers brushed gently at the very top. Before he could do anything else, Shosanna pushed his hand away.

"Go to him," she whispered deeply into his ear.

Landa flinched, stopping immediately as the words hit him.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

Shosanna sat up and looked into Landa's confused face, her arousal taking control and making her ask for this strange request.

"Go to him now," she repeated, "I want to watch you."

It took Landa a full minute to completely absorb what she was asking. He watched her closely, waiting to see if any shred of doubt or suggestion that this was some form of joke was evident on her face. There was none. Her eyes were bright with excitement, her breathing heavy with anticipation. Landa shivered and grinned back at her. Even he had underestimated quite how open this girl was to discovering darker pleasures.

* * *

Hellstrom had fallen into a light and fitful sleep, waking up continuously as his troubled mind whirled with thoughts. He moved around uncomfortably and kept rearranging the covers in the hope of trying to relax properly. He had finally slipped into a reasonably steady stream of sleep.

He was unsure at first whether he was dreaming when he first felt hands on his body. He moved around again, trying to shake off the strange, hot feeling that was creeping over his limbs. He jolted as he felt someone moving over him, kicking away the bedcovers and breathing warmly onto his face.

Hellstrom struggled through the murky waves of sleep that still clung to him and tried to fight his way back to full consciousness. This was not a dream but he could not work out exactly what was happening.

The feeling of wet lips against his made him gasp in shock as his mind became fully awake. The room was dark, only the glow of the moon outside shedding any light through the window. Hellstrom lay still, impatiently waiting whilst his eyes adjusted to the dimness. His waiting was interrupted by a sharp stab of pleasure in stomach. He moaned loudly as he felt a finger penetrate him, one that was slippery and cold with lubricant.

With his senses now fully alert, Hellstrom did not need his eyes to recognise the touch and smell of the body above him. He arched his back and parted his legs as he responded blissfully to Landa's touch. His joy was only momentarily interrupted as a tiny logical voice asked him why Landa had left the bed which contained his young lover. But as he felt Landa slide himself deep into his body, all of Hellstrom's logic and sense dissolved into enjoyment.

* * *

Outside in the landing Shosanna watched, her face pressed against the crack between the door and the wall. She had briefly hesitated with guilt at Hellstrom's lack of awareness that he was the subject of her voyeurism, but this was quickly forgotten once Landa entered the room. She watched with intense fascination, the sweaty male bodies moving together with increasing frenzy. She sank to the floor and breathed through her own arousal into the darkness, more thankful than ever to be here with Landa.


End file.
